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f ■jpsS'l  a 
, PZ  3 


REPORT 


OF 

' , V * * • 

THE  EXPLORING  EXPEDITION 


TO 

THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS 


IN  THE  YEAR  1842, 


AND  TO 

OREGON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA 

IN  THE  YEARS  1843-’44. 


BREVET  CAPTAIN  J.  C.  FREMONT, 

OF  THE  TOFOGRAPHICAL  ENGINEERS, 

UNDER  THE  ORDERS  OF  COL.  J.  J.  ABERT,  CHIEF  OF  THE  TOPOGRAPHICAL  BUREAU. 


1845. 


IN  SENATE  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 


March  3,  1845. 

Resolved , That  the  Secretary  of  War  be  requested  to  communicate  to  the  Senate,  if  it  be  pre- 
pared, and  if  not,  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Senate  during  the  recess,  Brevet  Captain  Fremont’s 
report  of  his  late  expedition  to  Oregon,  in  the  years  1843-’44;  and  that  there  be  printed  for 
the  use  of  the  Senate  ten  thousand  extra  copies  of  that  report,  together  with  the  report  of  his 
expedition  to  the  Rocky  mountains  in  1842,  which  is  hereby  directed  to  be  reprinted  with  the 
report  of  the  last  expedition. 


Attest  : 


ASBURY  DICKINS, 

Secretary  of  the  Senate,  t 


NOTICE  TO  THE  READER, 


The  Senate  of  the  United  Stales,  and  the  House  of  Representatives 
having  each  ordered  ten  thousand  copies  of  the  reports  of  the  two  ex- 
ploring expeditions  conducted  by  me,  to  be  printed  together,  I have 
deemed  it  regular  and  natural  to  place  the  report  of  1842  first  in  the  order 
of  publication,  although  heretofore  printed ; it  being  first  in  the  order  of 
time,  and  first  in  the  progress  of  actual  exploration.  The  two  reports 
naturally  go  together,  the  second  being  a continuation  of  the  first,  and  the 
two  constituting  parts  of  a whole,  which  will  require  a third  expedition, 
now  commencing,  to  complete.  The  first  terminated  at  the  Rocky  moun- 
tains, and  at  the  two  points  of  greatest  interest  in  that  ridge — namely,  the 
South  Pass,  and  Fremont’s  Peak;  the  former  being  the  lowest  depression 
of  the  mountains,  through  which  the  road  to  Oregon  now  passes,  and  the 
latte*  the  highest  elevation,  from  the  base  of  which  four  great  rivers  take 
their  rise,  and  flow  in  opposite  directions,  toward  the  rising  and  the  setting 
sun.  The  second,  after  approaching  the  mountains  by  a different  route, 
connects  with  the  first  expedition  at  the  South  Pass,  and  thence  finds  the 
great  theatre  of  its  labors  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  between  the 
Oregon  river  and  North  California.  The  third  expedition,  now  com- 
mencing, will  be  directed  to  that  section  of  the  Rocky  mountains  which 
gives  rise  to  the  Arkansas,  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte,  and  the  Rio  Colorado 
of  California ; and  will  extend  west  and  southwest  of  that  section,  so  as 
to  examine  the  country  towards  the  Pacific  ocean,  ascertain  the  lines  of 
communication  between  the  mountains  and  the  ocean  in  that  latitude,  and 
complete  the  examination  of  the  Great  Salt  lake  and  of  the  interesting  re- 
gion which  embosoms  it. 

The  map  which  illustrated  the  report  of  1842  is  now  extended  to  illus- 
trate the  entire  expedition  of  1843-’44,  so  that  a view  of  both  expeditions 
will  be  presented  together.  This  map  may  have  a meager  and  skeleton 
appearance  to  the  general  eye,  but  is  expected  to  be  more  valuable  to 
science  on  that  account,  being  wholly  founded  upon  positive  data  and  ac- 
tual operations  in  the  field.  About  ten  thousand  miles  of  actual  travel- 
ling and  traversing  in  the  wilderness  which  lies  between  the  frontiers  of 
Missouri  and  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  almost  every  camping  station  being 


4 


the  scene  of  astronomical  or  barometrical  observations,  furnish  the  mate- 
rials out  of  which  this  map  has  been  constructed.  Nothing  supposititious 
has  been  admitted  upon  it;  so  that,  connecting  with  Captain  Wilkes’s  sur- 
vey of  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  and  with  the  authentic  surveys  of  the 
State  of  Missouri,  it  fills  up  the  vast  geographical  chasm  between  these 
two  remote  points,  and  presents  a connected  and  accurate  view  of  our  con- 
tinent from  the  Mississippi  river  to  the  Pacific  ocean. 

To  this  geographical  map,  delineating  the  face  of  the  country  over 
which  we  travelled,  there  is  added  another  in  profile,  showing  the  eleva- 
tions, or  the  rise  and  fall  of  the  country  from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific. 
East  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  two  of  these  profile  views  are  given — one 
from  St.  Louis  to  the  South  Pass,  the  other  from  the  mouth  of  the  Great 
Platte  to  the  same  point.  The  latter  is  the  shortest ; and  following,  as  it 
does,  the  regular  descent  of  the  river,  and  being  seven  hundred  miles  west 
of  the  Mississippi,  it  may  be  that  the  eastern  terminus  of  this  line  may 
furnish  the  point  at  which  the  steamboat  and  the  steam  car  may  hereafter 
meet  and  exchange  cargoes  in  their  magic  flight  across  this  continent. 
These  profile  views,  following  the  travelling  routes,  of  course  follow  the 
lowest  and  levellest  lines,  and  pass  the  mountain  at  the  point  of  its  great- 
est depression ; but  to  complete  the  view,  and  to  show  the  highest  points 
as  well  as  the  lowest  levels,  many  lofty  peaks  are  sketched  at  their  proper 
elevations,  towering  many  thousands  of  feet  above  the  travelling  line.*  It 
may  here  be  excusable  to  suggest  that  these  profile  maps  here  exhibited 
are,  perhaps,  the  most  extended  work  of  the  kind  ever  constructed,  being 
from  St.  Louis  (according  to  the  route  we  travelled)  near  sixteen  hundred 
miles  to  the  South  Pass  ; from  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Platte  to  the  same 
Pass,  about  one  thousand  more ; and  then  another  sixteen  hundred  from 
that  Pass  to  the  tide  water  of  the  Oregon ; in  all,  about  four  thousand 
miles  of  profile  mapping,  founded  upon  nearly  four  hundred  barometrical 
positions,  with  views  sketched  and  facts  noted  in  the  field  as  we  went. 

In  the  departments  of  geological  and  botanical  science,  1 have  not  ven- 
tured to  advance  any  opinions  on  my  own  imperfect  knowledge  of  those 
branches,  but  have  submitted  all  my  specimens  to  the  enlightened  judg- 
ment of  Dr.  Torrey, of  New  Jersey,  and  Dr.  Hall,  of  New  York,  who  have 
kindly  classified  and  arranged  all  that  I was  able  to  submit  to  them- 
The  botanical  observations  of  Dr.  Torrey  will  be  furnished  in  full  here- 
after, there  not  being  time  to  complete  them  now.  The  remarks  of  Dr. 
Hall,  on  the  geological  specimens  furnished  to  him,  will  be  found  in  an 
appendix  to  the  report;  and  to  his  palaeontological  skill  I am  indebted  for 
the  discovery  of  an  oolitic  formation  in  the  region  west  of  the  Rocky 


5 


mountains,  which  further  examination  may  prove  to  assimilate  the  geOiOgy 
of  the  New  to  that  of  the  Old  World  in  a rare  particular,  which  had  not 
before  been  discovered  in  either  of  the  two  Americas.  Unhappily,  much 
of  what  we  had  collected  was  lost  by  accidents  of  serious  import  to 
ourselves,  as  well  as  to  our  animals  and  collections.  In  the  gorges  and 
ridges  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  of  the  Alta  California,  we  lost  fourteen  horses 
and  mules,  falling  from  rocks  or  precipices  into  chasms  or  rivers,  bottom- 
less to  us  and  to  them,  and  one  of  them  loaded  with  bales  of  plants  col- 
lected on  a line  of  two  thousand  miles  of  travel;  and,  when  almost  home, 
our  camp  on  the  banks  of  the  Kansas  was  deluged  by  the  great  flood 
which,  lower  down,  spread  terror  and  desolation  on  the  borders  of  the 
Missouri  and  Mississippi,  and  by  which  great  damage  was  done  to  our 
remaining  perishable  specimens,  all  wet  and  saturated  with  water,  and 
which  we  had  no  time  to  dry.  Still,  what  is  saved  will  be  some  respect- 
able contribution  to  botanical  science,  thanks  to  the  skill  and  care  of  Dr- 
Torrey ; and  both  in  geology  and  botany  the  maps  will  be  of  great  value, 
the  profile  view  showing  the  elevations  at  which  the  specimens  were 
found,  and  the  geographical  map  showing  the  localities  from  which  they 
come. 

The  astronomical  observations,  taken  with  good  instruments,  have  been 
tested,  where  they  were  most  important,  by  a three-fold  computation : one 
by  Professor  Walker,  of  Philadelphia,  whose  astronomical  reputation  is  so 
great;  another  by  Mr.  Joseph  C.  Hubbard,  a promising  young  mathema- 
* tician  from  Connecticut ; the  third  by  myself ; so  that  the  correctness  of 
the  longitudes  and  latitudes  may  well  be  relied  upon. 

In  sketching  the  topographical  features  of  the  country,  a branch  of 
science  in  which  he  had  been  professionally  educated,  Mr.  Charles  Preuss 
had  been  my  assistant  in  both  expeditions;  and  to  his  extraordinary  skill, 
supported  by  the  pleasure  he  felt  in  the  execution  of  his  duties,  I am  in- 
debted for  the  continuous  topographical  sketches  of  the  regions  through 
which  we  passed,  and  which  were  never  interrupted  by  any  extremity  of 
fatigue  or  privation. 

The  barometrical  and  meteorological  observations  were  carefully  made 
with  good  instruments,  and  admit  of  no  material  error  beyond  the  minute 
deviations  inseparable  from  such  operations. 

The  third  expedition,  now  commencing,  is  undertaken  with  more  ample 
means  than  the  two  former  ; and,  being  directed  to  a region  so  interesting 
in  itself,  and  so  new  to  science,  can  hardly  fail  to  recjuite  the  enterprise 
which  explores  it. 

The  report,  or  narrative,  of  this  extended  expedition,  like  the  maps 
which  illustrate  it,  will  be  strictly  confined  to  what  was  seen,  and  to  what 
is  necessary  to  show  the  face  and  character  of  the  country,  and  to  add 


something  to  science  while  fulfilling  the  instructions  of  the  Government, 
which  chiefly  contemplated  a military  topographical  survey.  A greater 
degree  of  popular  interest  might  have  been  imparted  to  it  by  admitting  a 
greater  latitude  of  detail,  but  it  was  deemed  best  to  adhere  to  the  rigorous 
character  of  a report , and  to  present  nothing,  either  in  the  narrative  or  in 
the  maps,  which  was  not  the  result  of  positive  observation. 

J.  C.  FREMONT, 

j Brevet  Captain  Topographical  Engineers . 

Washington  City,  March , 1845. 


A.  REPORT 


cn 

AN  EXPLORATION  OF  THE  COUNTRY 


Lying  beYween  the 

MISSOURI  RIVER  AND  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS, 

CN  THt  LINE  or 


THE  KANSAS  AND  GREAT  TLATTE  RIVERS, 


28th  Congress, 
2d  Session , 


' [SENATE.] 


[ H4  ] 


REPORT 


Washington,  March  1,  1843, 

To  Colonel  J.  J.  Abert, 

Chief  of  the  Corps  of  Topographical  Engineers  : 

Sir  : Agreeably  to  your  orders  to  explore  and  report  upon  the  country 
between  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  and  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  moun- 
tain?, and  on  the  line  of  the  Kansas  and  Great  Platte  rivers,  I sat  out  from 
Washington  city  on  the  2d  day  of  May,  1842,  and  arrived  at  St.  Louis,  by 
way  of  New. York,  the  22d  of  May,  where  the  necessary  preparations  were 
completed,  and  the  expedition  commenced.  I proceeded  in  a steamboat  to 
Chouteau’s  landing,  about  four  hundred  miles  by  water  from  St.  Louis, 
and  near  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  river,  whence  we  proceeded  twelve 
miles  to  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau’s  trading  house,  where  we  completed  our 
final  arrangements  for  the  expedition. 

Bad  weather,  which  interfered  with  astronomical  observations,  delayed 
us  several  days  in  the  early  part  of  June  at  this  post,  which  is  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  Kansas  river,  about  ten  miles  above  the  mouth,  and  six  be- 
yond the  western  boundary  of  Missouri.  The  sky  cleared  off  at  length, 
and  we  were  enabled  to  determine  our  position,  in  longitude  94°  25*  46", 
and  latitude  39°  5'  57".  The  elevation  above  the  sea  is  about  700  feet. 
Our  camp,  in  the  mean  time,  presented  an  animated  and  bustling  scene. 
All  were  busily  occupied  in  completing . the  necessary  arrangements  for 
our  campaign  in  the  wilderness,  and  profiting  by  this  short  delay  on  the 
verge  of  civilization,  to  provide  ourselves  with  all  the  little  essentials  to 
comfort  in  the  nomadic  life  we  were  to  lead  for  the  ensuing  summer 
months.  Gradually,  however,  every  thing — the  materiel  of  the  camp,  men, 
horses,  and  even  mules — settled  into  its  place,  and  by  the  10th  we  were 
ready  to  depart ; but,  before  we  mount  our  horses,  I will  give  a short  de- 
scription of  the  party  with  which  I performed  this  service. 

I had  collected  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louis  twenty-one  men,  prin- 
cipally Creole  and  Canadian  voyugeurs , who  had  become  familiar  with 
prairie  life  in  the  service  of  the  fur  companies  in  the  Indian  country.  Mr. 
Charles  Preuss,  a native  of  Germany,  was  my  assistant  in  the  topographi- 
cal part  of  the  survey.  L.  Maxwell,  of  Kaskaskia,  had  been  engaged  as 
hunter,  and  Christopher  Carson  (more  familiarly  known,  for  his  exploits  in 
the  mountains,  as  Kit  Carson)  was  our  guide.  The  persons  engaged  in 
St.  Louis  were : 

Clement  Lambert,  J.  B.  L’Esperance,  J.  B.  Lefevre,  Benjamin  Potra, 
Louis  Gouin,  J.  B.  Dumes,  Basil  Lajeunessej  Francois  Tessier,  Benjamin 
Cadotte,  Joseph  Clement,  Daniel  Simonds,  Leonard  Benoit,  Michel  Morly, 
Baptiste  Bernier,  Honore  Ayot,  Frangois  Latulippe,  Frangois  Badeau, 
Louis  Menard,  Joseph  Ruell^  Moise  Chardonnais,  Auguste  Janisse,  Ra- 
phael Proue. 


10 


t 174  ] 

In  addition  to  these,  Henry  Brant,  son  of  Col.  J.  B.  Brant,  of  St.  Louis, 
a young  man  of  nineteen  years  of  age,  and  Randolph,  a lively  boy  of 
twelve,  son  of  the  Hon.  Thomas  H.  Benton,  accompanied  me,  for  the  de- 
velopment of  mind  and  body  which  such  an  expedition  would  give.  We 
were  all  well  armed  and  mounted,  with  the  exception  of  eight  men,  who 
conducted  as  many  carts,  in  which  were  packed  our  stores,  with  the  bag- 
gage and  instruments,  and  which  were  each  drawn  by  two  mules.  A few 
loose  horses,  and  four  oxen,  which  had  been  added  to  our  stock  of  pro- 
visions, completed  the  train.  We  sat  out  on  the  morning  of  the  10th, 
which  happened  to  be  Friday — a circumstance  which  our  men  did  not  fail 
to  remember  and  recall  during  the  hardships  and  vexations  of  the  ensuing 
journey.  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau,  to  whose  kindness,  during  our  stay  at 
his  house,  we  were  much  indebted,  accompanied  us  several  miles  on  our 
way,  until  we  met  an  Indian,  whom  he  had' engaged  to  conduct  us  on  the 
first  thirty  or  forty  miles,  where  he  was  to  consign  us  to  the  ocean  of 
prairie,  which,  we  were  told,  stretched  without  interruption  almost  to  the 
base  of  the  Rocky  mountains. 

From  the  belt  of  wood  which  borders  the  Kansas,  in  which  we  had 
passed  several  good-looking  Indian  farms,  we  suddenly  emerged  on  the 
prairies,  which  received  us  at  the  outset  with  some  of  their  striking  char- 
acteristics ; for  here  and  there  rode  an  Indian,  and  but  a few  miles  distant 
heavy  clouds  of  smoke  were  rolling  before  the  fire.  In  about  ten  miles 
we  reached  the  Santa  Fe  road,  along  which  we  continued  for  a short  time, 
and  encamped  early  on  a small  stream  ; having  travelled  about  eleven 
miles.  During  our  journey,  it  was  the  customary  practice  to  encamp  an 
hour  or  two  before  sunset,  when  the  carts  were  disposed  so  as  to  form  a 
sort  of  barricade  around  a circle  some  eighty  yards  in  diameter.  The 
tents  were  pitched,  and  the  horses  hobbled  and  turned  loose  to  graze  ; 
and  but  a few  minutes  elapsed  before  the  cooks  of  the  messes,  of  which 
there  were  four,  were  busily  engaged  in  preparing  the  evening  meal.  At 
nightfall,  the  horses,  mules,  and  oxen,  were  driven  in  and  picketed— 
that  is,  secured  by  a halter,  of  which  one  end  was  tied  to  a small  steel - 
shod  picket)  and  driven  into  the  ground  ; the  halter  being  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  long,  which  enabled  them  to  obtain  a little  food  during  the  night. 
When  we  had  reached  a part  of  the  country  where  such  a precaution  be- 
came necessary,  the  carts  being  regularly  arranged  for  defending  the 
camp,  guard  was  mounted  at  eight  o’clock,  consisting  of  three  men,  who 
were  relieved  every  two  hours ; the  morning  watch  being  horse  guard  for 
the  day.  At  daybreak,  the  camp  was  roused,  the  animals  turned  loose  to 
graze,  and  breakfast  generally  over  between  six  and  seven  o’clock,  when 
we  resumed  our  march,  making  regularly  a halt  at  noon  for  one  or  two 
hours.  Such  was  usually  the  order  of  the  day,  except  when  accident  of 
country  forced  a variation;  which,  however,  happened  but  rarely.  Wc 
travelled  the  next  day  along  the  Santa  Fe  road,  which  we  left  in  the  af= 
ternoon,  and  encamped  late  in  the  evening  on  a small  creek,  called  by  the 
Indians  Mishmagwi.  Just  as  we  arrived  at  camp,  one  of  the  horses  set 
off  at  full  speed  on  his  return,  and  was  followed  by  others.  Several  men 
were  sent  in  pursuit,  and  returned  with  the  fugitives  about  midnight, 
with  the  exception  of  one  man,  who  did  not  make  his  appearance  until 
morning.  He  had  lost  his  way  in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  and  slept  on 
the  prairie.  Shortly  after  midnight  it  began  to  rain  heavily,  and,  as  our 
tents  were  of  light  and  thin  cloth,  they  offered  but  little  obstruction  to 


H 


[ 1^4  ] 

rain , we  were  all  well  soaked,  and  glad  when  morning  came.  We  had  a 
rainy  march  on  the  12th,  but  the  weather  grew  fine  as  the  day  advanced. 
We  encamped  in  a remarkably  beautiful  situation  on  the  Kansas  bluffs, 
which  commanded  a fine  view  of  the  river  valley,  here  from  three  to  four 
miles  wide.  The  central  portion  was  occupied  by  a broad  belt  ot  heavy 
timber,  and  nearer  the  hills  the  prairies  were  of  the  richest  verdure.  One 
of  the  oxen  was  killed  here  for  food. 

We  reached  the  ford  of  the  Kansas  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  14th, 
where  the  river  was  two  hundred  and  thirty  yards  wide,  and  commenced 
immediately  preparations  for  crossing.  I had  expected  to  find  the  river 
fordable  ; but  it  had  been  swollen  by  the  late  rains,  and  was  sweeping  by 
with  an  angry  current,  yellow  and  turbid  as  the  Missouri.  Up  to  this 
point,  the  road  we  had  travelled,  was  a remarkably  fine  one,  well  beaten, 
and  level — the  usual  road  of  a prairie  country.  By  our  route,  the  ford  was 
one  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  river.  Several  mounted 
men  led  the  way  into  the  stream,  to  swim  across.  The  animals  were 
driven  in  after  them,  and  in  a few  minutes  all  had  reached  the  opposite 
bank  in  safety,  with  the  exception  of  the  oxen,  which  swam  some  dis- 
tance down  the  river,  and,  returning  to  the  right  bank,  were  not  got  over 
until  the  next  morning.  In  the  mean  time,  the  carts  had  been  unloaded 
and  dismantled,  and  an  India-rubber  boat,  which  I had  brought  with  me 
for  the  survey  of  the  Platte  river,  placed  in  the  water.  The  boat  was 
twenty  feet  long  and  five  broad,  and  on  it  were  placed  the  body  and 
wheels  of  a cart,  with  the  load  belonging  to  it,  and  three  men  with  paddles. 

The  velocity  of  the  current,  and  the  inconvenient  freight,  rendering  it 
difficult  to  be  managed,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  one  of  our  best  swimmers,  took 
in  his  teeth  a line  attached  to  the  boat,  and  swam  ahead  in  order  to  reach 
a footing  as  soon  as  possible,  and  assist  in  drawing  her  over.  In  this  man- 
ner, six  passages  had  been  successfully  made,  and  as  many  carts  with  their 
contents,  and  a greater  portion  of  the  party,  deposited  on  the  left  bank ; 
but  night  was  drawing  near,  and,  in  our  anxiety  to  have  all  over  before 
the  darkness  closed  in,  I put  upon  the  boat  the  remaining  two  carts,  with 
their  accompanying  load.  The  mari  at  the  helm  was  timid  on  water,  and, 
in  his  alarm,  capsized  the  boat.  Carts,  barrels,  boxes,  and  bales,  were  in 
a moment  floating  down  the  current : but  all  the  men  who  were  on  the 
shore  jumped  into  the  water,  without  stopping  to  think  if  they  could 
swim, and  almost  everything — even  heavy  articles, such  as  guns  and  lead — 
was  recovered. 

Two  of  the  men,  who  could  not  swim,  came  nigh  being  drowned,  and 
all  the  sugar  belonging  to  one  of  the  messes  wasted  its  swe,ets  on  the 
muddy  waters;  but  our  heaviest  loss  was  a bag  of  coffee,  which  con- 
tained nearly  all  our  provision.  It  was  a loss  which  none  but  a traveller 
in  a strange  and  inhospitable  country  can  appreciate  ; and  often  afterward, 
when  excessive  toil  and  long  marching  had  overcome  us  with  fatigue  and 
weariness,  we  remembered  and  mourned  over  our  loss  in  the  Kansas. 
Carson  and  Maxwell  had  been  much  in  the  water  yesterday,  and  both,  in 
consequence,  were  taken  ill.  The  former  continuing  so,  I remained  in 
camp.  A number  of  Kansas  Indians  visited  us  to-day.  Going  up  to  one 
of  the  groups  who  were  scattered  among  the  trees,  I found  one  sitting  on 
the  ground,  among  some  of  the  men,  gravely  and  fluently  speaking  French, 
with  as  much  facility  and  as  little  embarrassment  as  any  of  my  own  party, 
who  were  nearly  all  of  French  origin. 


12 


t 174  ] 

On  all  sides  was  heard  the  strange  language  of  his  own  people,  wild, 
and  harmonizing  well  with  their  appearance.  I listened  to  him  for  some 
time  with  feelings  of  strange  curiosity  and  interest.  He  was  now  appa- 
rently^thirty-five  years  of  age  *,  and,  on  inquiry,  I learned  that  he  had  been 
at  St.  Louis  when  a boy,  and  there  had  learned  the  French  language. 
From  one  of  the  Indian  women  1 obtained  a fine  cow  and  calf  in  exchange 
for  a yoke  of  oxen.  Several  of  them  brought  us  vegetables,  pumpkins, 
onions,  beans,  and  lettuce.  One  of  them  brought  butter,  and  from  a half- 
breed  near  the  river  I had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  some  twenty  or 
thirty  pounds  of  coffee.  The  dense  timber  in  which  we  had  encamped 
interfered  with  astronomical  observations,  and  our  wet  and  damaged 
stores  required  exposure  to  the  sun.  Accordingly,  the  tents  were  struck 
early  the  next  morning,  and,  leaving  camp  at  six  o’clock,  we  moved  about 
seven  miles  up  the  river,  to  a handsome,  open  prairie,  some  twenty  feet 
above  the  water,  where  the  fine  grass  afforded  a luxurious  repast  to  our 
horses. 

During  the  day  We  occupied  ourselves  in  making  astronomical  observa- 
tions, in  order  to  lay  down  the  country  to  this  place ; it  being  our  custom 
to  keep  up  our  map  regularly  in  the  field,  which  we  found  attended  with 
many  advantages.  The  men  were  kept  busy  in  drying  the  provisions, 
painting  the  cart  covers,  and  otherwise  completing  our  equipage,  until  the 
afternoon,  when  powder  Was  distributed  to  them,  and  they  spent  some 
hours  in' firing  at  a mark.  We  were  now  fairly  in  the  Indian  country,  and 
it  began  to  be  time  to  prepare  for  the  chances  of  the  wilderness. 

Friday , June  17. — The  weather  yesterday  had  not  permitted  us  to  make 
the  observations  I was  desirous  to  obtain  here,  and  I therefore  did  not 
move  to-day.  The  people  continued  their  target  firing.  In  the  steep  bank 
of  the  river  here,  were  nests  of  innumerable  swallows,  into  one  of  which 
a large  prairie  snake  had  got  about  half  his  body,  and  was  occupied  in 
eating  the  young  birds.  The  old  ones  were  flying  about  in  great  distress, 
darting  at  him,  and  vainly  endeavoring  to  drive  him  off.  A shot  wound- 
ed him,  and,  being  killed,  he  was  cut  open,  and  eighteen  young  swallows 
were  found  in  his  body.  A sudden  storm,  that  burst  upon  us  in  the  after  - 
noon', cleared  away  in  a brilliant  sunset,  followed  by  a clear  night,  which 
enabled  us  to  determine  our  position  in  longitude  95°  38'  05",  and  in  lati- 
tude 39°  06'  40". 

A party  of  emigrants  to  the  Columbia  river,  under  the  eharge  of  Dr. 
White,  an  agent  of  the  Government  in  Oregon  Territory,  were  about  three 
weeks  in  advance  of  us.  They  consisted  of  men,  women,  and  children. 
There  were  sixty-four  men,  and  sixteen  or  seventeen  families.  They  had 
a considerable  number  of  cattle,  and  were  transporting  their  household 
furniture  in  large  heavy  wagons.  I understood  that  there  had  been  much 
sickness  among  them,  and  that  they  had  lost  several  children.  One  of  the 
party,  who  had  lost  his  child,  and  whose  wife  was  very  ill,  had  left  them 
about  one  hundred  miles  hence  on  the  prairies;  and  as  a hunter,  who  had 
accompanied  them,  visited  our  camp  this  evening,  we  availed  ourselves  of 
his  return  to  the  States  to  write  to  our  friends. 

The  morning  of  the  18th  was  very  unpleasant.  A fine  rain  was  falling, 
with  cold  wind  from  the  north,  and  mists  made  the  river  hills  look  dark 
and  gloomy.  We  left  our  camp  at  seven,  journeying  along  the  foot  of  the 
hills  which  border  the  Kansas  valley,  generally  about  three  miles  wide, 
and  extremely  rich.  We  halted  for  dinner,  after  a march  of  about  thir- 


13 


[ 174  ] 

teen  miles,  on  the  banks  of  on6  of  the  many  little  tributaries  to  the  Kan- 
sas, which  look  like  trenches  in  the  prairie,  and  are  usually  well  timbered. 
After  crossing  this  stream,  I rode  off  some  miles  to  the  left,  attracted  by 
the  appearance  of  a cluster  of  huts  near  the  mouth  of  the  Vermilliqn.  It 
was  a large  but  deserted  Kansas  village,  scattered  in  an  open  wood,  along 
the  margin  of  the  stream,  on  a spot  chosen  with  the  customary  Indian 
fondness  for  beauty  of  scenery.  The  Pawnees  had  attacked  it  in  the  early 
spring.  Some  of  the  houses  were  burnt,  and  others  blackened  with  smoke, 
and  weeds  were  already  getting  possession  of  the  cleared  places.  Riding 
up  the  Vermillion  river,  I reached  the  ford  in  time  to  meet  the  carts,  and, 
crossing,  encamped  on  its  western  side.  The  weather  continued  cool,  the 
thermometer  being  this  evening  as  low  as  49°;  but  the  night  was  sufficiently 
clear  for  astronomical  observations,  which  placed  us  in  longitude  96°  04’ 
07",  and  latitude  39°  15'  19".  At  sunset,  the  barometer  was  at  28.845, 
thermometer  64°. 

We  breakfasted  the  next  morning  at  half  past  five,  and  left  our  encamp- 
ment early.  The  morning  was  cool,  the  thermometer  being  at  45°.  Quit- 
ting the  river  bottom,  the  road  ran  along  the  uplands,  over  a rolling  country, 
generally  in  view  of  the  Kansas,  from  eight  to  twelve  miles  distant.  Many 
large  boulders,  of  a very  compact  sandstone,  of  various  shades  of  red,  some 
of  them  four  or  five  tons  in  weight,  were  scattered  along  the  hills;  and 
many  beautiful  plants  in  flower,  among  which  the  amorpha  canescens 
was  a characteristic,  enlivened  the  green  of  the  prairie.  At  the  heads  of 
the  ravines  I remarked,  occasionally,  thickets  of  salix  longifolia , the  most 
common  willow  of  the  country.  We  travelled  nineteen  miles,  and  pitched 
our  tents  at  evening  on  the  head  waters  of  a small  creek,  now  nearly  dry, 
but  having  in  its  bed  several  fine  springs.  The  barometer  indicated  a 
considerable  rise  in  the  country — here  about  fourteen  hundred  feet  above 
the  sea — and  the  increased  elevation  appeared  already  to  have  some  slight 
influence  upon  the  vegetation.  The  night  was  cold,  with  a heavy  dew; 
the  thermometer  at  10  p.  m.  standing  at  46°,  barometer  28.483.  Our 
position  was  in  longitude  96°  14'  49",  and  latitude  39°  30'  40". 

The  morning  of  the  20th  was  fine,  with  a southerly  breeze  and  a bright 
sky  ; and  at  7 o’clock  we  were  on  the  march.  The  country  to-day  was 
rather  more  broken,  rising  still,  and  covered  every  where  with  fragments 
of  siliceous  limestone,  particularly  on  the  summits,  where  they  were  small 
and  thickly  strewed  as  pebbles  on  the  shore  of  the  sea.  In  these  exposed 
situations  grew  but  few  plants;  though,  whenever  the  soil  was  good  and 
protected  from  the  winds,  in  the  creek  bottoms  and  ravines,  and  on  the 
slopes,  they  flourished  abundantly;  among  them  the  amorpha , still  re- 
taining its  characteristic  place.  We  crossed,  at  10  a.  m.,  the  Big  Vermillion 
which  has  a rich  bottom  of  about  one  mile  in  breadth,  one-third  of  which 
is  occupied  by  timber.  Making  our  usual  halt  at  noon,  after  a day’s 
march-of  twenty  four  miles,  we  reached  the  Big  Blue,  and  encamped  on 
the  uplands  of  the  western  side,  near  a small  creek,  where  was  a fine 
large  spring  of  very  cold  water.  This  is  a clear  and  handsome  stream, 
about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  wide,  running,  with  a rapid  current 
through  a well-timbered  valley.  To-day  antelope  were  seen  running 
over  the  hills,  and  at  evening  Carson  brought  us  a fine  deer.  Longitude 
of  the  camp  96°  32'  35",  latitude  39°  45'  08".  Thermometer  at  sunset 
75°.  A pleasant  southerly  breeze  and  fine  morning  had  given  place  to  a 
gale,  with  indications  of  bad  weather;  when,  after  a march  of  ten  miles. 


14 


[ 174  ] 

we  halted  to  noon  on  a small  creek,  where  the  water  stood  in  deep  pools. 
In  the  bank  of  the  creek  limestone  made  its  appearance  in  a stratum  about 
one  foot  thick.  In  the  afternoon,  the  people  seemed  to  suffer  for  want  of 
water.  The  road  led  along  a high  dry  ridge;  dark  lines  of  timber  indicated 
the  heads  of  streams  in  the  plains  below ; but  there  was  no  water  near, 
and  the  day  was  very  oppressive,  with  a hot  wind,  and  the  thermometer 
at  90°.  Along  our  route  the  ‘amorpha  has  been  in  very  abundant  but  va- 
riable bloom — in  some  places  bending  beneath  the  weight  of  purple  clus- 
ters ; in  others  without  a flower.  It  seems  to  love  best  the  sunny  slopes, 
with  a dark  soil  and  southern  exposure.  Every  where  the  rose  is  met 
with,  and  reminds  us  of  cultivated  gardens  and  civilization.  It  is  scat- 
tered over  the  prairies  in  small  bouquets,  and,  when  glittering  in  the  dews 
and  waving  in  the  pleasant  breeze  of  the  early  morning,  is  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  the  prairie  flowers.  The  arternisia,  absinthe,  or  prairie  sage,  as 
it  is  variously  called,  “is  increasing  in  size,  and  glitters  like  silver,  as  the 
southern  breeze  turns  up  its  leaves  to  the  sun.  All  these  plants  have 
their  insect  inhabitants,  variously  colored ; taking  generally  the  hue  of  the 
flower  on  which  they  live.  The  arternisia  has  its  small  fly  accompany- 
ing it  through  every  change  of  elevation  and  latitude;  and  wherever  I 
have  seen  the  asclepias  tuberosa , I have  always  remarked,  too,  on  the 
dower  a large  butterfly,  so  nearly  resembling  it  in  color  as  to  be  distin- 
guishable at  a little  distance  only  by  the  motion  of  its  wings.  Travelling 
on  the  fresh  traces  of  the  Oregon  emigrants  relieves  a little  the  loneliness 
of  the  road ; and  to-night,  after  a march  of  twenty-two  miles,  we  halted 
on  a small  creek,  which  had  been  one  of  their  encampments.  As  we  ad- 
vance westward,  the  soil  appears  to  be  getting  more  sandy,  and  the  sur- 
face rock,  an  erratic  deposite  of  sand  and  gravel,  rests  here  on  a bed  of 
coarse  yellow  and  gray  and  very  friable  sandstone.  Evening  closed  over 
with  rain  and  its  usual  attendant,  hordes  of  musquitoes,  with  which  we 
were  annoyed  for  the  first  time. 

June  22. — We  enjoyed  at  breakfast  this  morning  a luxury,  very  unusual 
in  this  country,  in  a cup  of  excellent  coffee,  with  cream  from  our  cow. 
Being  milked  at  night,  cream  was  thus  had  in  the  morning.  Our  mid-day 
halt  was  at  Wyeth’s  creek,  in  the  bed  of  which  were  numerous  boulders 
of  dark  ferruginous  sandstone,  mingled  with  others  of  the  red  sandstone, 
already  mentioned.  Here  a pack  of  cards,  lying  loose  on  the  grass,  mark- 
ed an  encampment  of  our  Oregon  emigrants ; and  it  was  at  the  close  of 
the  day  when  we  made  our  bivouac  in  the  midst  of  some  well-timbered 
ravines  near  the  Little  Blue,  twenty-four  miles  from  our  camp  of  the  pre- 
ceding night.  Crossing  the  next  morning  a number  of  handsome  creeks, 
with  clear  water  and  sandy  beds,  we  reached,  at  10  a.  m.,  a very  beautiful 
wooded  stream,  about  thirty-five  feet  wide,  called  Sandy  creek,  and  some- 
times, as  the  Ottoes  frequently  winter  there,  the  Ottoe  fork.  The  country 
has  become  very  sandy,  and  the  plants  less  varied  and  abundant,  with  the 
exception  of  the  amorpha , which  rivals  the  grass  in  quantity,  though  not 
so  forward  as  it  has  been  found  to  the  eastward. 

At  the  Big  Trees,  where  we  had  intended  to  noon,  no  water  was  to  be 
found.  The  bed  of  the  little  creek  was  perfectly  dry,  and,  on  the  adjacent 
sandy  bottom, cacti, for  the  first  time,  made  their  appearance.  We  made 
here  a short  delay  in  search  of  water;  and,  after  a hard  day’s  march  of 
twenty-eight  miles,  encamped,  at  5 o’clock,  on  the  Little  Blue,  where 
our  arrival  made  a scene  of  the  Arabian  desert.  As  fast  as  they  arrived, 


15 


[ 174  ] 

men  and  horses  rushed  into  the  stream,  where  they  bathed  and  drank  to- 
gether in  common  enjoyment.  We  were  now  in  the  range  of  the  Paw- 
nees, who  were  accustomed  to  infest  this-  part  of  the  country,  stealing 
horses  from  companies  on  their  way  to  the  mountains,  and,  when  in  suffi- 
. cient  force,  openly  attacking  and  plundering  them,  and  subjecting  them 
to  various  kinds  of  insult.  For  the  first  time,  therefore,  guard  was  mount- 
ed to-night.  Our  route  the  next  morning  lay  up  the  valley,  which,  bor- 
dered by  hills  with  graceful  slopes,  looked  uncommonly  green  and  beam 
tiful.  The  stream  was  about  fifty  feet  wide,  and  three  or  four  deep, 
fringed  by  cotton  wood  and  willow,  with  frequent  groves  of  oak  tenanted 
by  flocks  of  turkeys.  Game  here,  too,  made  its  appearance  in  greater 
plenty.  Elk  were  irequently  seen  on  the  hills,  and  now  and  then  an  an- 
telope bounded  across  our  path,  or  a deer  broke  from  the  groves.  The 
road  in  the  afternoon  was  over  the  upper  prairies,  several  miles  from  the 
river,  and  we  encamped  at  sunset  on  one  of  its  small  tributaries,  where 
an  abundance  of  prele  ( equisetum ) afforded  fine  forage  to  our  tired  ani- 
mals. We  had  travelled  thirty-one  miles.  A heavy  bank  of  black  clouds 
in  the  west  came  on  us  in  a storm  between  nine  and  ten,  preceded  by  a 
violent  wind.  The  rain  fell  in  such  torrents  that  it  was  difficult  to  breathe 
facing  the  wind,  the  thunder  rolled  incessantly,  and  the  whole  sky  was 
tremulous  with  lightning;  now  and  then  illuminated  by  a blinding  flash, 
succeeded  by  pitchy  darkness.  Carson  had  the  watch  from  ten  to  mid- 
night, and  to  him  had  been  assigned  our  young  compagnons  de  voyage , 
Messrs.  Brant  and  R.  Benton.  This  was  their  first  night  on  guard,  and 
such  an  introduction  did  not  augur  very  auspiciously  of  the  pleasures  of 
the  expedition.  Many  things  conspired  to  render  their  situation  uncom- 
fortable ; stories  of  desperate  and  bloody  Indian  fights  were  rife  in  the 
camp  ; our  position  was  badly  chosen,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  timbered 
hollows,  and  occupying  an  area  of  several  hundred  feet,  so  that  necessa- 
rily the  guards  were  far  apart;  and  now  and  then  I could  hear  Randolph, 
as  if  relieved  by  the  sound  of  a voice  in  the  darkness,  calling  out  to  the 
sergeant  of  the  guard,  to  direct  his  attention  to  some  imaginary  alarm  ; 
but  they  stood  it  out,  and  took  their  turn  regularly  afterward. 

The  next  morning  we  had  a specimen  of  the  false  alarms  to  which  all 
parties  in  these  wild  regions  are  subject.  Proceeding  up  the  valley,  ob- 
jects were  seen  on  the  opposite  hills,  which  disappeared  before  a glass 
could  be  brought  to  bear  upon  them.  A man,  who  was  a short  distance 
in  the  rear,  came  spurring  up  in  great  haste,  shouting  Indians  ! Indians! 
He  had  been  near  enough  to  see  and  count  them,  according  to  his  report, 
and  had  made  out  twenty-seven.  I immediately  halted ; arms  were  ex- 
amined and  put  in  order ; the  usual  preparations  made ; and  Kit  Carson, 
springing  upon  one  of  the  hunting  horses,  crossed  the  river,  and  galloped 
off  into  the  opposite  prairies,  to  obtain  some  certain  intelligence  of  their 
movements. 

Mounted  on  a fine  horse,  without  a saddle,  and  scouring  bareheaded 
over  the  prairies,  Kit  was  one  of  the  finest  pictures  of  a horseman  I have 
ever  seen.  A short  time  enabled  him  to  discover  that  the  Indian  war 
party  of  twenty-seven  consisted  of  six  elk,  who  had  been  gazing  curiously 
at  our  caravan  as  it  passed  by,  and  were  now  scampering  off  at  full  speed. 
This  was  our  first  alarm,  and  its  excitement  broke  agreeably  on  the  mo- 
notony of  the  day.  At  our  noon  halt,  the  men  were  exercised  at  a target ; 
and  in  the  evening  we  pitched  our  tents  at  a Pawnee  encampment  of  last 


16 


[ m ] 

July.  They  had  apparently  killed  buffalo  here,  as  many  bones  were 
lying  about,  and  the  frames  where  the  hides  had  been  stretched  were  yet 
standing.  The  road  of  the  day  had  kept  the  valley,  which  is  sometimes 
rich  and  well  timbered,  though  the  country  is  generally  sandy.  Mingled  • 
with  the  usual  plants,  a thistle  ( cardans  leucographus)  had  for  the  last  # 
day  or  two  made  its  appearance  ; and  along  the  river  bottom,  tradescantia 
(virginica)  and  milk  plant  {asclepias  syriaca*)  in  considerable  quantities. 

Our  march  to-day  had  been  twenty-one  miles,  and  the  astronomical  ob- 
servations gave  us  a chronometric  longitude  of  9S°  22'  12",  and  latitude 
40°  26'  50".  We  were  moving  forward  at  seven  in  the  morning,  and  in 
about  five  miles  reached  a fork  of  the  Blue,  where  the  road  leaves  that 
river,  and  crosses  over  to  the  Platte.  No  water  was  to  be  found  on  the 
dividing  ridge,  and  the  casks  were  filled,  and  the  animals  here  allowed  a 
short  repose.  The  road  led  across  a high  and  level  prairie  ridge,  where 
were  but  few  plants,  and  those  principally  thistle  [car daus  leucographus ,) 
and  a kind  of  dwarf  artemisia.  Antelope  were  seen  frequently  during 
the  morning,  which  was  very  stormy.  Squalls  of  rain,  with  thunder  and 
lightning,  were  around  us  in  every  direction ; and  while  we  were  envel- 
oped in  one  of  them,  a flash,  which  seemed  to  scorch  our  eyes  as  it 
passed,  struck  in  the  prairie  within  a few  hundred  feet,  sending  up  a 
column  of  dust. 

Crossing  on  the  way  several  Pawnee  roads  to  the  Arkansas,  we  reach- 
ed, in  about  twenty-one  miles  from  our  halt  on  the  Blue,  what  is  called 
the  coast  of  the  Nebraska,  or  Platte  river.  This  had  seemed  in  the  dis- 
tance a range  of  high  and  broken  hills  ; but  on  a nearer  approach  were 
found  to  be  elevations  of  forty  to  sixty  feet,  into  which  the  wind  had 
worked  the  sand.  They  were  covered  with  the  usual  fine  grasses  of  the 
country,  and  bordered  the  eastern  side  of  the  ridge  on  a breadth  of  about 
two  miles.  Change  of  soil  and  country  appeared  here  to  have  produced 
sorhe  change  in  the  vegetation.  Cacti  were  numerous,  and  all  the  plants 
of  the  region  appeared  to  flourish  among  the  warm  hills.  Among  them 
the  amorpha , in  full  bloom,  was  remarkable  for  its  large  and  luxuriant 
purple 'clusters.  From  the  foot  of  the  coast,  a distance  of  two  miles  across 
the  level  bottom  brought  us  to  our  encampment  on  the  shore  of  the  river, 
about  twenty  miles  below  the  head  of  Grand  island,  which  lay  extended 
before  us,  covered  with  dense  and  heavy  woods.  From  the  mouth  of  (he 
Kansas,  according  to  our  reckoning,  we  had  travelled  three  hundred  and 
twenty-eight  miles;  and  the  geological  formation  of  the  country  we  had 
passed  over  consisted  of  lime  and  sandstone,  covered  by  the  same  erratic 
deposite  of  sand  and  gravel  which  forms  the  surface  rock  of  the  prairies 
between  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  rivers.  Except  in  some  occasional 
limestone  boulders,  I had  met  with  no  fossils.  The  elevation  of  the  Platte 
valley  above  the  sea  is  here  about  two  thousand  feet.  The  astronomi- 
cal observations  of  the  night  placed  us  in  longitude  98°  45' 49",  latitude 
40°  41’  06". 


* “ This  plant  is  very  odoriferous,  and  in  Canada  charms  the  traveller,  especially  when  passing 
through  woods  in  the  evening.  The  F rench  there  eat  the  tender  shoots  in  the  spring,  as  we  do 
asparagus.  The  natives  make  a sugar  of  the  flowers,  gathering  them  in  the  morning  when  they  are 
covered  with  dew,  and  collect  the  cotton  from  the  pods  to  fill  their  beds.  On  account  of  the  silki- 
ness of  this  cotton,  Parkinson  calls  the  plant  Virginian  silk.” — Loudon's  Encyclopedia  of  Plants. 

The  Sioux  Indians  of  the  Upper  Platte  eat  the  young  pods  of  this  plant,  boiling  them  with  the 
meat  of  the  buffalo. 


17 


[ 174  ] 

June  27. — The  animals  were  somewhat  fatigued  by  their  march  of  yes- 
terday, arid,  after  a short  journey  of  eighteen  miles  along  the  river  bottom, 

I encamped  near  the  head  of  Grand  island,  in  longitude,  by  observation, 
99°  05'  24",  latitude  40°  39'  32".  The  soil  here  was  light  but  rich,  though 
in  some  places  rather  sandy ; and,  with  the  exception  of  a scattered  fringe 
along  the  bank,  the  timber,  consisting  principally  of  poplar,  (populus  mo - 
nilifera ,)  elm,  and  hackberry,  ( celtis  crassifoliu ,)  is  confined  almost  en- 
tirely to  the  islands. 

June  28. — We  halted  to  noon  at  an  open  reach  of  the  river,  which  oc- 
cupies rather  more  than  a fourth  of  the  valley,  here  only  about  four  miles 
broad.  The  camp  had  been  disposed  with  the  usual  precaution,  the 
horses  grazing  at  a little  distance,  attended  by  the  guard,  and  we  were  ail 
sitting  quietly  at  our  dinner  on  the  grass,  when  suddenly  we  heard  the 
startling  cry  “ du  rnonde  /”  In  an  instant,  every  man’s  weapon  was  in 
his  hand,  the  horses  were  driven  in,  hobbled  and  picketed,  and  horsemen 
were  galloping  at  full  speed  in  the  direction  of  the  new  comers,  screaming 
and  yelling  with  the  wildest  excitement.  “Get  ready,  my  lads!”  said 
the  leader  of  the  approaching  party  to  his  men,  when  our  wild-looking 
horsemen  were  discovered  bearing  down  upon  them ; “nous  allons  attraper 
des  coups  dt  baguette.”  They  proved  to  be  a small  party  of  fourteen, 
under  the  charge  of  a man  named  John  Lee,  and,  with  their  baggage  and 
provisions  strapped  to  their  backs,  were  making  their  way  on  foot  to  the 
frontier.  A brief  account  of  their  fortunes  will  give  some  idea  of  naviga- 
tion in  the  Nebraska.  Sixty  days  since,  they  had  left  the  mouth  of  Lar- 
amie’s fork,  some  three  hundred  miles  above,  in  barges  laden  with  the 
furs  of  the  American  Fur  Company.  They  started  with  the  annual  flood, 
and,  drawing  but  nine  inches  water,  hoped  to  make  a speedy  and  pros- 
perous voyage  to  St.  Louis ; but,  after  a lapse  of  forty  days,  found  them- 
selves only  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  their  point  of  departure. 
They  came  down  rapidly  as  far  as  Scott’s  bluffs,  where  their  difficulties 
began.  Sometimes  they  came  upon  places  where  the  water  was  spread 
over  a great  extent,  and  here  they  toiled  from  morning  until  night,  en- 
deavoring to  drag  their  boat  through  the  sands,  making  only  two  or  three 
miles  in  as  many  days.  Sometimes  they  would  enter  an  arm  of  the  river, 
where  there  appeared  a fine  channel,  and,  after  descending  prosperously 
for  eight  or  ten  miles,  would  come  suddenly  upon  dry  sands,  and  be  com- 
pelled to  return,  dragging  their  boat  for  days  against  the  rapid  current • 
and  at  otners,  they  came  upon  places  where  the  water  lay  in  holes,  and, 
getting  out  to  float  oft*  their  boat,  would  fall  into  water  up  to  their  necks, 
and  the  next  moment  tumble  over  against  a sandbar.  Discouraged,  at 
length,  and  finding  the  Platte  growing  every  day  more  shallow,  they  dis- 
charged the  principal  part  of  their  cargoes  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
below  Fort  Laramie,  which  they  secured  as  well  a% possible,  and,  leaving 
a few  men  to  guard  them,  attempted  to  continue  their  voyage,  laden  with 
some  light  furs  and  their  personal  baggage.  After  fifteen  or  twenty  days 
more  struggling  in  the  sands,  during  which  they  made  but  one  hundred 
and  forty  miles,  they  sunk  their  barges,  made  a cache  of  their  remaining 
furs  and  property,  in  trees  on  the  bank,  and,  packing  on  his  back  what 
each  man  could  carry,  had  commenced,  the  day  before  we  encountered 
them,  their  journey  on  foot  to  St.  Louis. 

We  laughed  then  at  their  forlorn  and  vagabond  appearance,  and,  in  our 
turn,  a month  or  two  afterwards,  furnished  the  same  occasion  for  merri- 
2 


18 


r 174  ] 

ment  to  others.  Even  thoir  stock  of  tobacco,  that  sine  qua  non  of  a voy-~ 
ageur,  without  which  the  night  fire  is  gloomy,  was  entirely  exhausted. 
However,  we  shortened  their  homeward  journey  by  a small  supply  from 
our  own  provision.  They  gave  us  the  welcome  intelligence  that  the  buf- 
falo were  abundant  some  two  days’  march  in  advance,  and  made  us  a 
present  of  some  choice  pieces,  which  were  a very  acceptable  change  from 
our  salt  pork.  In  the  interchange  of  news,  and  the  renewal  of  old  ac- 
quaintanceships, we  found  wherewithal  to  fill  a busy  hour  ; then  we 
mounted  our  horses,  and  they  shouldered  their  packs,  and  we  shook  hands 
and  parted.  Among  them,  I had  found. ^n  old  companion  on  the  northern 
prairie,  a hardened  and  hardly  served  veteran  of  the  mountains,  who  had 
been  as  much  hacked  and  scarred  as  an  old  moustache  of  Napoleon’s  “old 
guard.”  He  flourished  in  the  sobriquet  of  La  Tulipe,  and  his  real  name 
I never  knew.  Finding  that  he  was  going  to  the  States  only  because 
his  company  was  bound  in  that  direction,  and  that  he  was  rather  more 
willing  to  return  with  me,  I took  him  again  into  my  service.  We  trav- 
elled this  day  but  seventeen  miles. 

At  our  evening  camp,  about  sunset,  three  figures  were  discovered  ap- 
proaching, which  our  glasses  made  out  to  be  Indians.  They  proved  to 
be  Cheyennes — two  men,  and  a boy  of  thirteen.  About  a month  since, 
they  had  left  their  people  on  the  south  fork  of  the  river,  some  three  hun- 
dred miles  to  the  westward,  and  a party  of  only  four  in  number  had  been 
to  the  Pawnee  villages  on  a horse-stealing  excursion,  from  which  they 
were  returning  unsuccessful.  They  were  miserably  mounted  on  wild 
horses  from  the  Arkansas  plains,  and  had  no  other  weapons  than  bows 
and  long  spears;  and  had  they  been  discovered  by  the  Pawnees,  could 
not,  by  any  possibility,  have  escaped.  They  were  mortified  by  their  ill 
success,  and  said  the  Pawnees  were  cowards,  who  shut  up  their  horses  in 
their  lodges  at  night.  I invited  them  to  supper  with  me,  and  Randolph 
and  the  young  Cheyenne,  who  had  been  eyeing  each  other  suspiciously 
and  curiously,  soon  became  intimate  friends.  After  supper,  we  sat  down 
on  the  grass,  and  I placed  a sheet  of  paper  between  us,  on  which  they 
traced  rudely,  but  with  a certain  degree  of  relative  truth,  the  watercourses 
of  the  country  which  lay  between  us  and  their  villages,  and  of  which  I 
desired  to  have  some  information.  Their  companions,  they  told  us,  had 
taken  a nearer  route  over  the  hills ; but  they  had  mounted  one  of  the  sum- 
mits to  spy  out  the  country,  whence  they  had  caught  a glimpse  of  our  party, 
and,  confident  of  good  treatment  at  the  hands  of  the  whites,  hastened  to 
join  company.  Latitude  of  the  camp  40°  39'  51". 

We  made  the  next  morning  sixteen  miles.  I remarked  that  the  ground 
was  covered  in  many  places  with  an  efflorescence  of  salt,  and  the  plants 
were  not  numerous.  In  the  bottoms  was  frequently  seen  tradescantia , 
and  on  the  dry  lenchas  were  car  duns,  cactus,  and  amorpha.  A high  wind 
during  the  morning  had  increased  to  a violent  gale  from  the  northwest, 
which  made  our  afternoon  ride  cold  and  unpleasant.  We  had  the  wel- 
come sight  of  two  buffaloes  on  one  of  the  large  islands,  and  encamped  at  a 
clump  of  timber  about  seven  miles  from  our  noon  halt,  after  a day’s  march 
of  twenty-two  miles. 

The  air  was  keen  the  next  morning  at  sunrise,  the  thermometer  stand- 
ing at  44°,  and  it  was  sufficiently  cold  to  make  overcoats  very  comfortable. 
A few  miles  brought  us  into  the  midst  of  the  buffalo,  swarming  in  im- 
mense numbers  over  the  plains,  where  they  had  left  scarcely  a blade  of 


19 


[ 174  ] 

grass  standing.  Mr.  Preuss,  who  was  sketching  at  a little  distance  in*  the 
rear,  had  at  first  noted  them  as  large  groves  of  timber.  In  the  sight  of 
such  a mass  of  life,  the  traveller  feels  a strange  emotion  of  grandeur. 
We  had  heard  from  a distance  a dull  and  confused  murmuring,  and, 
when  we  came  in  view  of  their  dark  masses,  there  was  not  one  among 
us  who  did  not  feel  his  heart  beat  quicker.  It  was  the  early  part  of  the 
day,  when  the  herds  are  feeding;  and  every  where  they  were  in  motion. 
Here  and  there  a huge  old  bull  was  rolling  in  the  grass,  and  clouds  of 
dust  rose  in  the  air  from  various  parts  of  the  bands,  each  the  scene  of 
some  obstinate  fight.  Indians  and  buffalo  make  the  poetry  and  life  of 
the  prairie,  and  our  camp  was  full  of  their  exhilaration.  In  place  of  the 
quiet  monotony  of  the  march,  relieved  only  by  the  cracking  of  the  whip, 
.and  an  “ avance  done!  enfant  de  garce  !”  shouts  and  songs  resounded 
from  every  part  of  the  line,  and  our  evening  camp  was  always  the  com- 
mencement of  a feast,  which  terminated  only  with  our  departure  on  the 
following  morning.  At.  any  time  of  the  night  might  be  seen  pieces  of  the 
most  delicate  and  choicest  meat,  roasting  en  appolas , on  sticks  around  the 
fire,  and  the  guard  wbre  never  without  company.  With  pleasant  weather 
and  no  enemy  to  fear,  an  abundance  of  the  most  excellent  meat,  and  no 
scarcity  of  bread  or  tobacco,  they  were  enjoying  the  oasis  of  a voyageur’s 
life.  Three  cows  were  killed  to-day.  Kit  Carson  had  shot  one,  and  was 
continuing  the  chase  in  the  midst  of  another  herd,  when  his  horse  fell 
headlong,  but  sprang  up  and  joined  the  flying  band.  Though  considerably 
hurt,  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  break  no  bones  ; and  Maxwell,  who  was 
mounted  on  a fleet  hunter,  captured  the  runaway  after  a hard  chase.  He 
was  on  the  point  of  shooting  him,  to  avoid  the  loss  of  his  bridle,  (a  hand- 
somely mounted  Spanish  one,)  when  he  found  that  his  horse  was  able  to 
come  up  with  him.  Animals  are  frequently  lost  in  this  way ; and  it  is 
necessary  to  keep  close  watch  over  them,  -in  the  vicinity  of  the  buffalo,  in 
the  midst  of  which  they  scour  off  to  the  plains,  and  are  rarely  retaken. 
One  of  our  mules  took  a sudden  freak  into  his  head,  and  joined  a neigh- 
boring band  to-day.  As  we  were  not  in  a condition  to  lose  horses,  I sent 
several  men  in  pursuit,  and  remained  in  camp,  in  the  hope  of  recovering 
him;  but  lost  the  afternoon  to  no  purpose,  as  we  did  not  see  him  again. 
Astronomical  observations  placed  us  in  longitude  100°  05'  47",  latitude 
40°  49'  55". 

July  1. — Along  our  road  to-day  the  prairie  bottom  was  more  elevated 
and  dry,  and  the  hills  which  border  the  right  side  of  the  river  higher,  and 
more  broken  and  picturesque  in  the  outline.  The  country,  too,  was  bet- 
ter timbered.  As  we  were  riding  quietly  along  the  bank,  a grand  herd  of 
buffalo,  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  in  number,  came  crowding  up  from 
the  river,  where  they  had  been  to  drink,  and  commenced  crossing  the 
plain  slowly,  eating  as  they  went.  The  wind  was  favorable  ; the  coolness 
of  the  morning  invited  to  exercise;  the  ground  was  apparently  good,  and 
the  distance  across  the  prairie  (two  or  three  miles)  gave  us  a fine  opportu- 
nity to  charge  them  before  they  could  get  among  the  river  hills.  It  was 
too^fine  a prospect  for  a chase  to  be  lost ; and,  halting  for  a few  moments, 
the  hunters  were  brought  up  and  saddled,  and  Kit  Carson,  Maxwell,  and 
I,  started  together.  They  were  now  somewhat  less  than  half  a mile  dis- 
tant, and  we  rode  easily  along  unjtil  within  about  three  hundred  yards, 
when  a sudden  agitation,  a wavering  in  the  band,  and  a galloping  to  and 
fro  of  some  which  were  scattered  along  the  skirts,  gave  us  the  intimation 


20 


C 174  ] 

that  we  were  discovered.  We  started  together  at  a hand  gallop,  riding 
steadily  abreast  of  each  other,  and  here  the  interest  of  the  chase  became 
so  engrossingly  intense,  that  we  were  sensible  to  nothing  else.  We  were 
now  closing  upon  them  rapidly,  and  the  front  of  the  mass  was  already 
in  rapid  motion  for  the  hills,  and  in  a few  seconds  the  movement  had 
communicated  itself  to  the  whole  herd. 

A crowd  of  bulls,  as  usual,  brought  up  the  rear,  and  every  now  and 
then  some  of  them  faced  about,  and  then  dashed  on  after  the  band  a short 
distance,  and  turned  and  looked  again,  as  if  more  than  half  inclined  to 
stand  and  fight.  In  a few  moments,  however,  during  which  we  had  been 
quickening  our  pace,  the  rout  was  universal,  and  we  were  going  over  the 
ground  like  a hurricane.  When  at  about  thirty  yards,  we  gave  the  usual 
shout,  (the  hunter’s  pas  de  charge,)  and  broke  into  the  herd.  We  enter- 
ed on  the  side,  the  mass  giving  way  in  every  direction  in  their  heedless 
course.  Many  of  the  bulls,  less  active  and  less  fleet  than  the  cows,  pay- 
ing no  attention  to  the  ground,  and  occupied  solely  with  the  hunter,  were 
precipitated  to  the  earth  with  great  force,  rolling  over  and  over  with  the 
violence  of  the  shock,  and  hardly  distinguishable  in* the  dust.  We  sepa- 
rated on  entering,  each  singling  out  his  game. 

My  horse  was  a trained  hunter,  famous  in  the  west  under  the  name  of 
Proveau,  and,  with  his  eyes  flashing,  and  the  foam  flying  from  his  mouth, 
sprang  on  after  the  cow  like  a tiger.  In  a few  moments  he  brought  me 
alongside  of  her,  and,  rising  in  the  stirrups,  I fired  at  the  distance  of  a 
yard,  the  ball  entering  at  the  termination  of  the  long  hair,  and  passing 
near  the  heart.  She  fell  headlong  at  the  report  of  the  gun,  and,  checking 
my  horse,  I looked  around  for  my  companions.  At  a little  distance,  Kit 
was  on  the  ground,  engaged  in  tying  his  horse  to  the  horns  of  a cow 
which  he  was  preparing  to  cut  up.  Among  the  scattered  bands,  at  some 
distance  below,  I caught  a glimpse  of  Maxwell ; and  while  I was  looking, 
a light  wreath  of  white  smoke  curled  away  from  his  gun,  from  which  I was 
too  far  to  hear  the  report.  Nearer,  and  between  me  and  the  hills,  towards 
which  they  were  directing  their  course,  was  the  body  of  the  herd,  and, 
giving  my  horse  the  rein,  we  dashed  after  them.  A thick  cloud  of  dust 
hung  upon  their  rear,  which  filled  my  mouth  and  eyes,  and  nearly  smoth- 
ered me.  In  the  midst  of  this  I could  see  nothing,  and  the  buffalo  were 
not  distinguishable  until  within  thirty  feet.  They  crowded  together  more 
densely  still  as  I came  upon  them,  and  rushed  along  in  such  a compact 
body,  that  I could  not  obtain  an  entrance — the  horse  almost  leaping  upon 
them.  In  a few  moments  the  mass  divided  to  the  right  and  left,  the  horns 
clattering  with  a noise  heard  above  every  thing  else,  and  my  horse  darted 
into  the  opening.  Five  or  six  bulls  charged  on  us  as  we  dashed  along 
the  line,  but  were  left  far  behind  ; and,  singling  out  a cow,  I gave  her  my 
fire,  but  struck  too  high.  She  gave  a tremendous  leap,  and  scoured  on 
swifter  than  before.  I reined  up  my  horse,  and  the  band  swept  on  like  a 
torrent,  and  left  the  place  quiet  and  clear.  Our  chase  had  led  us  into 
dangerous  ground.  A prairie-dog  village,  so  thickly  settled  that  there 
were  three  or  four  holes  in  every  twenty  yards  square,  occupied  the  whole 
bottom  for  nearly  two  miles  in  length.  Looking  around,  I saw  only  one 
of  the  hunters,  nearly  out  of  sight,  and  the  long  dark  line  of  our  caravan 
crawling  along,  three  or  four  miles  distant.  After  a march  of  twenty-four 
miles,  we  encamped  at  nightfall,  one  mile  and  a half  above  the  lower  end 
of  Brady’s  island.  The  breadth  of  this  arm  of  the  river  was  eight  hun 


21 


[ 174  ] 

dred  and  eighty  yards,  and  the  water  nowhere  two  feet  in  depth.  The 
island  bears  the  name  of  a man  killed  on  this  spot  some  years  ago.  His 
party  had  encamped  here,  three  in  company,  and  one  of  the  number  went 
off  to  hunt,  leaving  Brady  and  his  companion  together.  These  two  had 
frequently  quarrelled,  and  on  the  hunter’s  return  he  found  Brady  dead, 
and  was  told  that  he  had  shot  himself  accidentally.  He  was  buried  here 
on  the  bank;  but,  as  usual,  the  wolves  had  torn  him  out,  and  some  human 
bones  that  were  lying  on  the  ground  we  supposed  were  his:  Troops  of 

wolv.es,  that  were  hanging  on  the  skirts  of  the  buffalo,  kept  up  an  uninter- 
rupted howling  during  the  night,  venturing  almost  into  camp.  In  the 
morning,  they  were  sitting  at  a short  distance,  barking,  and  impatiently 
waiting  our  departure,  to  fall  upon  the  bones. 

July  2. — The  morning  was  cool  and  smoky.  Our  road  led  closer  to  the 
hills,  which  here  increased  in  elevation,  presenting  an  outline  of  conical 
peaks  three  hundred  to  five  hundred  feet  high.  Some  timber,  apparently 
pine,  grows  in  the  ravines,  and  streaks  of  clay  or  sand  whiten  their  slopes. 
We  crossed  during  the  morning  a number  of  hollows,  timbered  princi- 
pally with  box  elder*  (acer  negundo ,J  poplar,  and  elm.  Brady’s  island  is 
well  wooded,  and  all  the  river  along  which  our  road  led  to-day  may,  in 
general,  be  called  tolerably  well  timbered.  We  passed  near  an  encamp- 
ment of  the  Oregon  emigrants,  where  they  appear  to  have  reposed  several 
days.  A variety  of  household  articles  were  scattered  about,  and  they  had 
probably  disburdened  themselves  here  of  many  things  not  absolutely  ne- 
cessary. I had  left  the  usual  road  before  the  mid-day  halt,  and  in  the  af- 
ternoon, having  sent  several  men  in  advance  to  reconnoitre,  marched  di- 
rectly for  the  mouth  of  the  South  fork.  On  our  arrival,  the  horsemen  were 
sent  in  and  scattered  about  the  river  to  search  the  best  fording  places,  and 
the  carts  followed  immediately.  The  stream  is  here  divided  by  an  island 
into  two  channels.  The  southern  is  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide, 
having  eighteen  or  twenty  inches  water  in  the  deepest  places.  With  the 
exception  of  a few  dry  bars,  the  bed  of  the  river  is  generally  quicksands, 
in  which  the  carts  began  to  sink  rapidly  so  soon  as  the  mules  halted,  so 
that  it  was  necessary  to  keep  them  constantly  in  motion. 

The  northern  channel,  two  thousand  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide, 
was  somewhat  deeper,  having  frequently  three  feet  water  in  the  numer- 
ous small  channels,  with  a bed  of  coarse  gravel.  The  whole  breadth  of 
the  Nebraska,  immediately  below  the  junction,  is  five  thousand  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  feet.  All  our  fequipage  had  reached  theleft  bank  safely  at  6 
o’clock,  having  to-day  mEfde  twenty  miles.  We  encampted  at  the  point 
of  land  immediately  at  the  junction  of  the  North  and  South  forks.  Be- 
tween the  streams  is  a low  rich  prairie,  extending  from  their  confluence 
eighteen  miles  westwardly  to  the  bordering  hills,  where  it  is  five  and  a 
half  miles  wide.  It  is  covered  with  a luxuriant  growth  of  grass,  and 
along  the  banks  is  a slight  and  scattered  fringe  of  cottonwood  and  willow. 
In  the  buffalo  trails  and  wallows,  I remarked  saline  efflorescences,  to 
which  a rapid  evaporation  in  the  great  heat  of  the  sun  probably  contrib- 
utes, as  the  soil  is  entirely  unprotected  by  timber.  In  the  vicinity  of  these 
places  there  was  a bluish  grass,  which  the  cattle  refuse  to  eat,  called  by 
the  voyageurs  “ herbe  salee /’  (salt  grass.)  The  latitude  of  the  junction  is 
41°  04'  47",  and  longitude,  by  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  100°  49'43". 
The  elevation  above  the  sea  is  about  two  thousand  seven  hundred  feet.  The 
hunters  came  in  with  a fat  cow;  and,  as  we  had  labored  hard,  we  enjoyed 


22 


[ 174  ] 

well  a supper  of  roasted  ribs  and  boudins , the  chef  d’ oeuvre  of  a prairie 
cook.  Mosquitoes  thronged  about  us  this  evening;  but,  by  10  o’clock, 
when  the  thermometer  had  fallen  to  47°,  they  had  all  disappeared. 

July  3. — As  this  was  to  be  a point  in  our  homeward  journey,  I made  a 
cache  (a  term  used  in  all  this  country  for  what- is  hidden  in  the  ground)  of 
a barrel  of  pork.  It  was  impossible  to  conceal  such  a proceeding  from  the 
sharp  eyes  of  our  Cheyenne  companions,  and  I therefore  told  them  to  go 
and  see  what  it  was  they  were  burying.  They  would  otherwise  have 
not  failed  to  return  and  destroy  our  cache , in  expectation  of  some  rich 
booty;  but  pork  they  dislike,  and  never  eat.  We  left  our  camp  at  9,  con- 
tinuing up  the  South  fork,  the  prairie  bottom  affording  us  a fair  road  ; but 
in  the  long  grass  we  roused  myriads  of  mosquitoes  and  flies,  from  which 
our  horses  suffered  severely.  The  day  was  smoky,  with  a pleasant  breeze 
from  the  south,  and  the  plains  on  the  opposite  side  were  covered  with  buf- 
falo. Having  travelled  twenty-five  miles,  we  encamped  at  6 in  the  even- 
ing; and  the  men  were  sent  across  the  river  for  wood,  as  there  is  none 
here  on  the  left  bank.  Our  fires  were  partially  made  of  the  bow  de  vache, 
the  dry  excrement  of  the  buffalo,  which,  like  that  of  the  camel  in  the  Ara- 
bian deserts,  furnishes  to  the  traveller  a very  good  substitute  for  wood, 
burning  like  turf.  Wolves  in  great  numbers  surrounded  us  during  the 
night,  crossing  and  recrossing  from  the  opposite  herds  to  our  camp,  and 
howling  and  trotting  about  in  the  river  until  morning. 

July  4. — The  morning  was  very  smoky,  the ‘sun  shining  dimly  and  red, 
as  in  a thick  fog.  The  camp  was  roused  with  a salute  at  daybreak,  and 
from  our  scanty  store  a portion  of  what  our  Indian  friends  called  the  “red 
fire  water”  served  out  to  the  men.  While  we  were  at  breakfast,  a buffala 
calf  broke  through  the  camp,  followed  by  a couple  of  wolves.  In  its 
fright,  it  had  probably  mistaken  us  for  a band  of  buffalo.  The  wolves 
were  obliged  to  make  a circuit  around  the  camp,  so  that  the  calf  got  a lit- 
tle the  start,  and  strained  every  nerve  to  reach  a large  herd  at  the  foot  of 
the  hills,  about  two  miles  distant ; but  first  one,  and  then  another,  and 
another  wolf  joined  in  the  chase,  until  his  pursuers  amounted  to  twenty 
or  thirty,  and  they  ran  him  down  before  he  could  reach  his  friends. 
There  were  a few  bulls  near  the  place,  and  one  of  them  attacked  the 
wolves,  and  tried  to  rescue  him ; but  was  driven  off  immediately,  and  the 
little  animal  fell  an  easy  prey,  half  devoured  before  he  was  dead.  We 
watched  the  chase  with  the  interest  always  felt  for  the  Aveak ; and  had 
there  been  a saddled  horse  at  hand,  he  would  have  fared  better.  Leaving 
camp,  our  road  soon  approached  the  hills,  in  which  strata  of  a marl  like  that 
of  the  Chimney  rock,  hereafter  described,  make  their  appearance,  It  is 
probably  of  this  rock  that  the  hills  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Platte,  a little 
below  the  junction,  are  composed,  and  which  are  worked  by  the  winds 
and  rains  into  sharp  peaks  and  cones,  giving  them,  in  contrast  to  the  sur- 
rounding level  region,  something  of  a picturesque  appearance.  We 
crossed  this  morning  numerous  beds  of  the  small  creeks  which,  in  the 
time  of  rains  and  melting  snow,  pour  down  from  the  ridge,  bringing  down 
with  them  always  great  quantities  of  sand  and  gravel,  Avhich  have  gradu- 
ally raised  their  beds  four  to  ten  feet  above  the  level  of  the  prairie,  which 
they  cross,  making  each  one  of  them  a minia'ture  Po.  Raised  in  this  way 
above  the  surrounding  prairie,  without  any  bank,  the  long  yellow  and 
winding  line  of  their  beds  resembles  a causeway  from  the  hills  to  the 
river.  Many  spots  on  the  prairie  are  yellow  with  sunflower,  ( helianthus .) 


23 


[ 174  J 

As  we  were  riding  slowly  along  this  afternoon,  clouds  of  dust  in  the 
ravines,  among  the  hills  to  the  right,  suddenly  attracted  our  attention,  and 
in  a few  minutes  column  after  column  of  buffalo  came  galloping  down, 
making  directly  to  the  river.  By  the  time  the  leading  herds  had  reached 
the  water,  the  prairie  was  darkened  with  the  dense  masses.  Immediately 
• before  us,  when  the  bands  first  came  down  into  the  valley,  stretched  an 
unbroken  line,  the  head  of  which  was  lost  among  the  river  hills  on  th^ 
opposite  side ; and  still  they  poured  down  from  the  ridge  on  our  right. 
From  hill  to  hill,  the  prairie  bottom  was  certainly  not  less  than  two  miles 
wide ; and,  allowing  the  animals  to  be  ten  feet  apart,  and  only  ten  in  a 
line,  there  were  already  eleven  thousand  in  view.  Some  idea  may  thus 
be  formed  of  their  number  when  they  had  occupied  the  whole  plain.  In 
a short  time  they  surrounded  us  on  every  side ; extending  for  several  miles 
in  the  rear,  and  forward  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  ; leaving  around  us, 
as  we  advanced,  an  open  space  of  only  two  or  three  hundred  yards.  This 
movement  of  the  buffalo  indicated  to  us  the  presence  of  Indians  on  the 
North  fork. 

I halted  earlier  than  usual,  about  forty  miles  from  the  junction,  and  all 
hands  were  soon  busily  engaged  in  preparing  a feast  to  celebrate  the  day. 
The  kindness  of  our  friends  at  St.  Louis  had  provided  us  with  a large 
supply  of  excellent  preserves  and  rich  fruit  cake ; and  when  these  were 
added  to  a maccaroni  soup,  and  variously  prepared  dishes  of  the  choicest 
buffalo  meat,  crowned  with  a cup  of  coffee,  and  enjoyed  with  prairie  ap- 
petite, we  felt,  as  we  sat  in  barbaric  luxury  around  our  smoking  supper 
on  the  grass,  a greater  sensation  of  enjoyment  than  the  Roman  epicure  at 
his  perfumed  feast.  But  most  of  all  it  seemed  to  please  our  Indian  friends, 
who,  in  the  unrestrained  enjoyment  of  the  moment,  demanded  to  know  if 
our  “ medicine  days  came  often.”  No  restraint  was  exercised  at  the  hos- 
pitable board,  and,  to  the  great  delight  of  his  elders,  our  young  Indian  lad 
made  himself  extremely  drunk. 

Our  encampment  was  within  a few  miles  of  the  place  where  the  road 
crosses  to  the  North  fork,  and  various  reasons  led  me  to  divide  my  party 
at  this  point.  The  North  fork  was  the  principal  object  of  my  survey;  but 
I was  desirous  to  ascend  the  South  branch,  with  a view  of  obtaining  some 
astronomical  positions,  and  determining  the  mouths  of  its  tributaries  as 
far  as  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  estimated  to  be  some  two  hundred  miles  further  up 
the  river,  and  near  to  Long’s  peak.  There  1 hoped  to  obtain  some  mules, 
which  I found  would  be  necessary  to  relieve  my  horses.  In  a military 
point  of  view,  I was  desirous  to  form  some  opinion  of  the  country  relative 
to  the  establishment  of  posts  on  a line  connecting  the  settlements  with 
the  South  pass  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  by  way  of  the  Arkansas  and  the 
South  and  Laramie  forks  of  the  Platte.  Crossing  the  country  northwest- 
wardly from  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  to  the  American  company’s  fort  at  the  mouth 
of  Laramie*  would  give  me  some  acquaintance  with  the  affluents  which 
head  in  the  mountains  between  the  two ; I therefore  determined  to  set  out 
the  next  morning,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Preuss  and  four  men,  Maxwell, 
Bernier,  Ayot,  and  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Our  Cheyennes,  whose  village  lay 
up  this  river,  also  decided  to  accompany  us.  The  party  I left  in  charge 
of  Clement  Lambert,  with  orders  to  cross  to  the  North  fork;  and  at  some 
convenient  place,  near  to  the  Coulee  des  Frenes , make  a cache  of  every 
• thing  not  absolutely  necessary  to  the  further  progress  of  our  expedition. 
From  this  point,  using  the  most  guarded  precaution  in  his  march  through 


[ 174  ] 


24 


the  country,  he  was  to  proceed  to  the  American  company’s  fort  at  the 
mouth  of  Laramie’s  fork,  and  await  my  arrival,  which  would  be  prior  to 
the  16th,  as  on  that  and  the  following  night  would  occur  some  occultations 
which  I was  desirous  to  obtain  at  that  place. 

July  5. — Before  breakfast,  all  was  ready.  *We  had  one  led  horse  in  ad- 
dition to  those  we  rode,  and  a pack  mule,  destined  to  carry  our  instruments, 
provisions,  and  baggage  ; the  last  two  articles  not  being  of  very  great 
weight.  The  instruments  consisted  of  a sextant,  artificial  horizon,  & c.,  a 
barometer,  spy  glass,  and  compass.  The  chronometer  I of  course  kept  on 
my  person.  1 had  ordered  the  cook  to  put  up  for  us  some  flour,  coffee,  and 
sugar,  and  our  rifles  were  to  furnish  the  rest.  One  blanket,  in  addition  to 
his  saddle  and  saddle  blanket,  furnished  the  materials  for  each  man’s  bed, 
and  every  one  was  provided  with  a change  of  linen.  All  were  armed 
with  rifles  or  double  barrelled  guns;  and,  in  addition  to  these,  Maxwell 
and  myself  were  furnished  with  excellent  pistols.  Thus  accoutred,  we 
took  a parting  breakfast  with  our  friends,  and  set  forth. 

Our  journey  the  first  day  afforded  nothing  of  any  interest.  We  shot 
a buffalo  toward  sunset,  and,  having  obtained  some  meat  for  our  evening 
meal,  encamped  where  a little  timber  afforded  us  the  means  of  making  a 
fire.  Having  disposed  our  meat  on  roasting  sticks,  we  proceeded  to  un- 
pack our  bales  in  search  of  coffee  and  sugar,  and  flour  for  bread.  With 
the  exception  of  a little  parched  coffee,  unground,  we  found  nothing.  Our 
cook  had  neglected  to  put  it  up,  or  it  had  been  somehow  forgotten.  Tired 
and  hungry,  with  tough  bull  meat  without  salt,  (for  we  had  not  been  able 
to  kill  a cow,)  and  a little  bitter  coffee,  we  sat  down  in  silence  to  our  mis- 
erable fare,  a very  disconsolate  party ; for  yesterday’s  feast  was  yet  fresh 
in  our  memories,  and  this  was  our  first  brush  with  misfortune.  Each  man 
took  his  blanket,  and  laid  himself  down  silently ; for  the  worst  part  of  these 
mishaps  is,  that  they  make  people  ill-humored.  To-day  we  had  travelled 
about  thirty-six  miles. 

July  6. — Finding  that  our  present  excursion  would  be  attended  with 
considerable  hardship,  and  unwilling  to  expose  more  persons  than  neces- 
sary, I determined  to  send  Mr.  Preuss  back  to  the  party.  His  horse,  too, 
appeared  in  no  condition  to  support  the  journey ; and  accordingly,  after 
breakfast,  he  took  the  road  across  the  hills,  attended  by  one  of  my  most 
trusty  men,  Bernier.  The  ridge  between  the  rivers  is  here  about  fifteen 
miles  broad,  and  I expected  he  would  probably  strike  the  fork  near  their 
evening  camp.  At  all  events,  he  would  not  fail  to  find  their  trail,  and  re- 
join them  the  next  day. 

We  continued  our  journey,  seven  in  number,  including  the  three  Chey- 
ennes. Our  general  course  was  southwest,  up  the  valley  of  the  river, 
which  was  sandy,  bordered  on  the  northern  side  of  the  valley  by  a low 
ridge ; and  on  the  south,  after  seven  or  eight  miles,  the  river  hills  became 
higher.  Six  miles  from  our  resting  place  we  crossed  the  bed  of  a consid- 
erable stream,  now  entirely  dry — a bed  of  sand.  In  a grove  of  willows, 
near  the  mouth,  were  the  remains  of  a considerable  fort,  constructed  of 
trunks  of  large  trees.  It  was  apparently  very  old,  and  had  probably  been 
the  scene  of  some  hostile  encounter  among  the  roving  tribes.  Its  soli- 
tude formed  an  impressive  contrast  to  the  picture  which  our  imaginations 
involuntarily  drew  of  the  busy  scene  which  had  been  enacted  here.  The 
timber  appeared  to  have  been  much  more  extensive  formerly  than  now. 
There  were  but  few  trees,  a kind  of  long-leaved  willow,  standing ; and 


25 


[ 174  ] 

numerous  trunks  of  large  trees  were  scattered  about  on  the  ground.  In 
many  similar  places  I had  occasion  to  remark  an  apparent  progressive  de- 
cay in  the  timber.  Ten  miles  farther  we  reached  the  mouth  of  Lodge 
Pole  creek,  a clear  and  handsome  stream,  running  through  a broad  valley. 
In  its  course  through  the  bottom  it  has  a uniform  breadth  of  twenty-two 
feet,  and  six  inches  in  depth.  A few  willows  on  the  banks  strike  pleas- 
antly on  the  eye,  by  their  greenness,  in  the  midst  of  the  hot  and  barren 
sands. 

The  amorpha  was  frequent  among  the  ravines,  but  the  sunflower  ( hell - 
anthus)  was  the  characteristic ; and  flowers  of  deep  warm  colors  seem  most 
to  love  the  sandy  soil.  The  impression  of  the  country  travelled  over  to- 
day was  one  of  dry  and  barren  sands.  We  turned  in  towards  the  river  at 
noon,  and  gave  our  horses  two  hours  for  food  and  rest.  I had  no  other 
thermometer  than  the  one  attached  to  the  barometer,  which  stood  at  89°, 
the  height  of  the  column  in  the  barometer  being  26.235  at  meridian.  The 
sky  was  clear,  with  a high  wind  from  the  south.  At  2,  we  continued  our 
journey ; the  wind  had  moderated,  and  it  became  almost  unendurably  hot, 
and  our  animals  suffered  severely.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  the  wind 
rose  suddenly,  and  blew  bard  from  the  southwest,  with  thunder  and  light- 
ning, and  squalls  of  rain  ; these  were  blown  against  us  with  violence  by 
the  wind ; and,  halting,  we  turned  our  backs  to  the  storm  until  it  blew 
over.  Antelope  were  tolerably  frequent,  with  a large  gray  hare  ; but  the 
former  were  shy,  and  the  latter  hardly  worth  the  delay  of  stopping  to  shoot 
them  ; so,  as  the  evening  drew  near,  we  again  had  recourse  to  an  old  bull, 
and  encamped  at  sunset  on  an  island  in  the  Platte. 

We  ate  our  meat  with  a good  relish  this  evening,  for  we  were  all  in  fine 
health,  and  had  ridden  nearly  all  of  a long  summer’s  day,  with  a burning 
sun  reflected  from  the  sands.  My  companions  slept  rolled  up  in  their 
blankets,  and  the  Indians  lay  in  the  grass  near  the  fire ; but  my  sleeping 
place  generally  had  an  air  of  more  pretension.  Our  rifles  were  tied  to- 
gether near  the  muzzle,  the  butts  resting  on  the  ground,  and  a knife  laid 
on  the  rope,  to  cut  away  in  case  of  an  alarm.  Over  this,  which  made  a 
kind  of  frame,  was  thrown  a large  India  rubber  cloth,  which  we  used  to 
cover  our  packs.  This  made  a tent  sufficiently  large  to  receive  about  half 
of  my  bed,  and  was  a place  of  shelter  for  my  instruments  ; and  as  I was 
careful  always  to  put  this  part  against  the  wifld,  I could  lie  here  with  a 
sensation  of  satisfied  enjoyment,  and  hear  the  wind  blow,  and  the  rain 
patter  close  to  my  head,  and  know  that  I should  be  at  least  half  dry.  Cer- 
tainly, I never  slept  more  soundly.  The  barometer  at  sunset  was  26.010, 
thermometer  81°,  and  cloudy;  but  a gale  from  the  west  sprang  up  with 
the  setting  sun,  and  in  a few  minutes  swept  away  every  cloud  from  the 
sky.  The  evening  was  very  fine,  and  I remained  up  to  take  some  astro- 
nomical observations,  which  made  our  position  in  latitude  40°  51'  17",  and 
longitude  103°  07'  00". 

July  7. — At  our  camp  this  morning,  at  6 o’clock,  the  barometer  was  at 
26.183,  thermometer  69°,  and  clear,  with  a light  wind  from  the  southwest. 
The  past  night  had  been  squally,  with  high  winds,  and  occasionally  a few 
drops  of  rain.  Our  cooking  did  not  occupy  much  time,  and  we  left  camp 
early.  Nothing  of  interest  occurred  during  the  morning.  The  same 
dreary  barrenness,  except  that  a .hard  marly  clay  had  replaced  the  sandy 
soil.  Buffalo  absolutely  covered  the  plain  on  both  sides  the  river,  and 
whenever  we  ascended  the  hills,  scattered  herds  gave  life  to  the  view 


26 


L 174  ] 

in  every  direction.  A small  drove  of  wild  horses  made  their  appearance  on 
the  low  river  bottoms,  a mile  or  two  to  the  left,  and  1 sent  off  one  of  the  In- 
dians (who  seemed  very  eager  to  catch  one)  on  my  led  horse,  a spirited  and 
fleet  animal.  The  savage  manoeuvred  a little  to  get  the  wind  of  the  horses, 
in  which  he  succeeded — approaching  within  g.  hundred  yards  without  be- 
ing discovered.  The  chase  for  a few  minutes  was  animated  and  interest- 
ing. My  hunter  easily  overtook  and  passed  the  hindmost  of  the  wild  drove, 
which  the  Indian  did  not  attempt  to  lasso ; all  his  efforts  being  directed  to 
the  capture  of  the  leader.  But  the  strength  of  the  horse,  weakened  by  the 
insufficient  nourishment  of  grass,  failed  in  a race,  and  all  the  drove  escaped. 
We  halted  at  noon  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  the  barometer  at  that  time  be- 
ing 26.192,  and  the  thermometer  103°,  with  a light  air  from  the  south,  and 
clear  weather. 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  dust  rising  among  the  hills  at  a particular 
place,  attracted  our  attention;  and,  riding  up,  we  found  a band  of  eighteen 
or  twenty  buffalo  bulls  engaged  in  a desperate  fight.  Though  butting  and 
goring  were  bestowed  liberally,  and  without  distinction,  yet  their  efforts 
were  evidently  directed  against  one — a huge  gaunt  old  bull,  very  lean, 
while  his  adversaries  were  all  fat  and  in  good  prder.  He  appeared  very 
weak,  and  had  already  received  some  wounds,  and,  while  we  were  look- 
ing on,  was  several  times  knocked  down  and  badly  hurt,  and  a very  few 
moments  would  have  put  an  end  to  him.  Of  course,  we  took  the  side  of 
the  weaker  party,  and  attacked  the  herd ; but  they  were  so  blind  with 
rage,  that  they  fought  on,  utterly  regardless  of  our  presence,  although  on 
foot  and  on  horseback  we  were  firing  in  open  view  within  twenty  yards 
of  them.  But  this  did  not  last  long.  In  a very  few  seconds,  we  created 
a commotion  among  them.  One  or  two,  which  were  knocked  over  by  the 
balls,  jumped  up  and  ran  off  into  the  hills;  and  they  began  to  retreat 
slowly  along  a broad  ravine  to  the  river,  fighting  furiously  as  they  went. 
By  the  time  they  had  reached  the  bottom,  we  had  pretty  well  dispersed 
them,  and  the  old  bull  hobbled  off,  to  lie  down  somewhere.  One  of  his  en- 
emies remained  on  the  ground  where  we  had  first  fired  upon  them,  and  we 
stopped  there  for  a short  time  to  cut  from  him  some  meat  for  our  supper. 
We  bad  neglected  to  secure  our  horses,  thinking  it  an  unnecessary  precau- 
v tion  in  their  fatigued  condition  ; but  our  mule  took  it  into  his  head  to  start, 
and  away  he  went,  followed  at  full  speed  by  the  pack  horse,  with  all  the 
baggage  and  instruments  on  his  back.  They  were  recovered  and  brought 
back,  after  a chase  of  a mile.  Fortunately,  every  thing  was  well  secured, 
so  that  nothing,  not  even  the  barometer,  was  in  the  least  injured. 

The  sun  was  getting  low,  and  some  narrow  lines  of  timber  four  or  five 
miles  distant  promised  us  a pleasant  camp,  where,  with  plenty  of  wood 
for  fire,  and  comfortable  shelter,  and  rich  grass  for  our  animals,  we  should 
find  clear  cool  springs,  instead  of  the  warm  water  of  the  Platte.  On  our 
arrival,  we  found  the  bed  of  a stream  fifty  to  one  hundred  feet  wide,  sunk 
some  thirty  feet  below  the  level  of  tile  prairie,  with  perpendicular  banks, 
bordered  by  a fringe  of  green  cottonwood,  but  not  a drop  of  water.  There 
were  several  small  forks  to  the  stream,  all  in  the  same  condition.  With 
the  exception  of  the  Platte  bottom,  the  country  seemed  to  be  of  a clay  form- 
ation, dry,  and  perfectly  devoid  of  any  moisture,  and  baked  hard  by  the 
sun.  Turning  off  towards  the  river,  we  .reached  the  bank  imabout  a mile, 
and  were  delighted  to  find  an  old  tree,  with  thick  foliage  and  spreading 
branches,  where  we  encamped.  At  sunset,  the  barometer  was  at  25.950, 


27 


[ 174  ] 

thermometer  81°,  with  a strong  wind  from  S.  20°  E;,  and  the  sky  partially 
covered  with  heavy  masses  of  cloud,  which  settled  a little  towards  the 
horizon  by  10  o’clock,  leaving  it  sufficiently  clear  for  astronomical  ob- 
servations, which  placed  us  in  latitude  40°  33'  26",  and  longitude  103° 
30'  37".  , 

July  S. — The  morning  was  very  pleasant.  The  breeze  was  fresh  from 
S.  50°  E.  with  few  clouds;  the  barometer  at  6 o’clock  standing  at  25.970, 
and  the  thermometer  at  70°.  Since  leaving  the  forks,  our  route  had  passed 
over  a country  alternately  clay  and  sand,  each  presenting  the  same  naked 
waste.  On  leaving  camp  this  morning,  we  struck  again  a sandy  region, 
in  which  the  vegetation  appeared  somewhat  more  vigorous  than  that 
which  we  had  observed  for  the  last  few  days;  and  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  river  were  some  tolerably  large  groves  of  timber. 

Journeying  along,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a place  where  the  ground 
was  covered  with  horses’  tracks,  which  had  been  made  since  the  rain,  and 
indicated  the  immediate  presence  of  Indians  in  our  neighborhood.  The 
buffalo,  too,  which  the  day  before  had  been  so  numerous,  were  nowhere  in 
sight — another  sure  indication  that  there  were  people  near.  Riding  on,  we 
discovered  the  carcass  of  a buffalo  recently  killed — perhaps  the  day  before. 
We  scanned  the  horizon  carefully  with  the  glass,  but  no  living  object  was 
to  be  seen.  For  the  next  mile  or  two,  the  ground  was  dotted  with  buffalo 
carcasses,  which  showed  that  the  Indians  had  made  a surround  here,  and 
were  in  considerable  force.  We  went  on  quickly  and  cautiously,  keeping 
the  river  bottom,  and  carefully  avoiding  the  hills ; but  we  met  with  no 
interruption,  and  began  to  grow  careless  again.  We  had  already  lost  one 
of  our  horses,  and  here  Basil’s  mule  showed  symptoms  of  giving  out,  and 
finally  refused  to  advance,  being  what  the  Canadians  call  restL  He  there- 
fore dismounted,  and  drove  her  along  before  him ; but  this  was  a very 
slow  way  of  travelling.  We  had  inadvertently  got  about  half  a mile  in 
advance,  but  our  Cheyennes,  who  were  generally  a mile  or  two  in  the 
rear,  remained  with  him.  There  were  some  dark-looking  objects  among 
the  hills,  about  two  miles  to  the  left,  here  low  and  undulating,  which  we 
had  seen  for  a little  time,  and  supposed  to  be  buffalo  coming  in  to  water  ; 
but,  happening  to  look  behind,  Maxwell  saw  the  Cheyennes  whipping  up 
furiously,  and  another  glance  at  the  dark  objects  showed  them  at  once  to 
be  Indians  coming  up  at  speed. 

Had  we  been  well  mounted,  and  disencumbered  of  instruments,  we 
might  have  set  them  at  defiance ; but  as  it  was,  we  were  fairly  caught. 
It  was  too  late  to  rejoin  our  friends,  and  we  endeavored  to  gain  a clump 
of  timber  about  half  a mile  ahead  ; but  the  instruments  and  the  tired  state 
of  our  horses  did  not  allow  us  to  go  faster  than  a steady  canter,  and  they 
were  gaining  on  us  fast.  At  first,  they  did  not  appear  to  be  more  than 
fifteen  or  twenty  in  number,  but  group  after  group  darted  into  view  at  the 
top  of  the  hills,  until  all  the  little  eminences  seemed  in  motion,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes  from  the  time  they  were  first  discovered,  two  or  three  hun- 
dred, naked  to  the  breech  cloth,  were  sweeping  across  the  prairie.  In  a 
few  hundred  yards  we  discovered  that  the  timber  we  were  endeavoring 
to  make  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river;  and  before  we  could  reach 
the  bank,  down  came  the  Indians  upon  us. 

I am  inclined  to  think  that  in  a few  seconds  more  the  leading  man, 
and  perhaps  some  of  his  companions,  would  have  rolled  in  the  dust;  for 
we  had  jerked  the  covers  from  our  guns,  and  our  fingers  were  on  the 


28 


[ 174  ] 

triggers ; men  in  such  cases  generally  act  from  instinct,  and  a charge  from 
three  hundred  naked  savages  is  a circumstance  not  well  calculated  to 
promote  a cool  exercise  of  judgment.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  fire,  Max- 
well recognised  the  leading  Indian,  and  shouted  to  him  in  the  Indian 
language,  “ You’re  a fool,  God  damn  you,  don’t  you  know  me?”  The 
sound  of  his  own  language  seemed  to  shock  the  savage,  and,  swerving 
his  horse  a little,  he  passed  us  like  an  arrow.  He  wheeled,  as  I rode  out 
toward  him,  and  gave  me  his  hand,  striking  his  breast  and  exclaiming 
“Arapaho!”  They  proved  to  be  a village  of  that  nation,  among  whom 
Maxwell  had  resided  as  a trader  a year  or  two  previously,  and  recognised 
him  accordingly.  We  were  soon  in  the  midst  of  the  band,  answering  as 
well  as  we  could  a multitude  of  questions  ; of  which  the  very  first  was,  of 
what  tribe  were  our  Indian  companions  who  were  coming  in  the  rear  ? 
They  seemed  disappointed  to  know  that  they  were  Cheyennes,  for  they 
had  fully  anticipated  a grand  dance  around  a Pawnee  scalp  that  night. 

The  chief  showed  us  his  village  at  a grove  on  the  river  six  miles  ahead, 
and  pointed  out  a band  of  buffalo  on  the  other  side  of  the  Platte,  imme- 
diately opposite  us,  which  he  said  they  were  going  to  surround.  They 
had  seen  the  band  early  in  the  morning  from  their  village,  and  had  been 
making  a large  circuit,  to  avoid  giving  them  the  wind,  when  they  discov- 
ered us.  In  a few  minutes  the  women  came  galloping  up,  astride  on 
their  horses,  and  naked  from  their  knees  down,  and  the  hips  up.  They 
followed  the  men,  to  assist  in  cutting  up  and  carrying  off  the  meat. 

The  wind  was  blowing  directly  across  the  river,  and  the  chief  requested 
us  to  halt  where  we  were  for  a while,  in  order  to  avoid  raising  the  herd. 
We  therefore  unsaddled  our  horses,  and  sat  down  on  the  bank  to  view 
the  scene;  and  our  new  acquaintances  rode  a few  hundred  yards  lower 
down,  and  began  crossing  the  river.  Scores  of  wild-looking  dogs  followed, 
looking  like  troops  of  wolves,  and  having,  in  fact,  but  very  little  of  the 
dog  in  their  composition.  Some  of  them  remained  with  us,  and  I checked 
one  of  the  men,  whom  I found  aiming  at  one,  which  he  was  about  to  kill 
for  a wolf.  The  day  had  become  very  hot.  The  air  was  clear,  with  a 
very  slight  breeze;  agd  now,  at  12  o’clock,  while  the  barometer  stood  at 
25.920,  the  attached  thermometer  was  at  108°.  Our  Cheyennes  had 
learned  that  with  the  Arapaho  village  were  about  twenty  lodges  of  their 
own,  including  their  own  families ; they  therefore  immediately  com- 
menced making  their  toilette.  After  bathing  in  the  river,  they  invested 
themselves  in  some  handsome  calico  shirts,  which  I afterward  learned 
they  had  stolen  from  my  own  men,  and  spent  some  time  in  arranging 
their  hair  and  painting  themselves  with  some  vermilion  1 had  given 
them.  While  they  were  engaged  in  this  satisfactory  manner,  one  of  their 
half-wild  horses,  to  which  the  crowd  of  prancing  animals  which  had  just 
passed  had  recalled  the  freedom  of  her  existence  among  the  wild  droves 
on  the  prairie,  suddenly  dashed  into  the  hills  at  the  top  of  her  speed. 
She  was  their  pack  horse,  and  had  on  her  back  all  the  worldly  wealth  of 
our  poor  Cheyennes,  all  their  accoutrements,  and  all  the  little  articles 
which  they  had  picked  up  among  us,  with  some  few  presents  I had  given 
them.  The  loss  which  they  seemed  to  regret  most  were  their  spears  and 
shields,  and  some  tobacco  which  they  had  received  from  me.  However, 
they  bore  it  all  with  the  philosophy  of  an  Indian,  and  laughingly  con- 
tinued their  toilette.  They  appeared,  however,  a little  mortified  at  the 
thought  of  returning  to  the  village  in  such  a sorry  plight.  Our  people 


29 


[ 1^4  ] 

will  laugh  at  us,”  said  one  of  them,  “ returning  to  the  village  on  foot,  in- 
stead of  driving  back  a drove  of  Pawnee  horses.”  He  demanded  to  know 
if  I loved  my  sorrel  hunter  very  much ; to  which  I replied,  he  was  the 
object  of  my  most  intense  affection.  Far  from  being  able  to  give,  I was 
myself  in  want  of  horses  ; and  any  suggestion  of  parting  with  the  few  I 
had  valuable,  was  met  with  a peremptory  refusal.  In  the  mean  time,  the 
slaughter  was  about  to  commence  on  the  other  side.  So  soon  as  they 
reached  it,  the  Indians  separated  into  two  bodies.  One  party  proceeded 
directly  across  the  prairie,  toward  the  hills,  in  an  extended  line,  while  the 
other  went  up  the  river ; and  instantly  as  they  had  given  the  wind  to  the 
herd,  the  chase  commenced.  The  buffalo  started  for  the  hills,  but  were 
intercepted  and  driven  back  toward  the  river,  broken  and  running  in  every 
direction.  The  clouds  of  dust  soon  covered  the  whole  scen^e,  preventing 
us  from  having  any  but  an  occasional  view.  It  had  a very  singular  ap- 
pearance to  us  at  a distance,  especially  when  looking  with  the  glass.  We 
were  too  far  to  hear  the  report  of  the  guns,  or  any  sound ; and  at  every 
instant,  through  the  clouds  of  dust  which  the  sun  made  luminous,  we 
could  see  for  a moment  two  or  three  buffalo  dashing  along,  and  close  be- 
hind them  an  Indian  with  his  long  spear,  or  other  weapon,  and  instantly 
again  they  disappeared.  The  apparent  silence,  and  the  dimly  seen  figures 
flitting  by  with  such  rapidity,  gave  it  a kind  of  dreamy  effect,  and  seemed 
more  like  a picture  than  a scene  ‘of  real  life.  It  had  been  a large  herd 
when  the  cerne  commenced,  probably  three  or  four  hundred  in  number ; 
but,  though  I watched  them  closely,  I did  not  see  one  emerge  from  the 
fatal  cloud  where#the  work  of  destruction  was  going  on.  After  remain- 
ing here  about  an  hour,  we  resumed  our  journey  in  the  direction  of  the 
village. 

Gradually,  as  we  rode  on,  Indian  after  Indian  came  dropping  along, 
laden  with  meat ; and  by  the  time  we  had  neared  the  lodges,  the  back- 
ward road  was  covered  with  the  returning  horsemen.  It  was  a pleasant 
contrast  with  the  desert  road  we  had  been  travelling.  Several  had  joined 
company  with  us,  and  one  of  the  chiefs  invited  us  to  his  lodge.  The  vil- 
lage consisted  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  lodges,  of  which 
twenty  were  Cheyennes;  the  latter  pitched  a little  apart  from  the  Arapa- 
hoes.  They  were  disposed  in  a scattering  manner  on  both  sides  of  a 
broad  irregular  street,  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  running 
along  the  river.  As  we  rode  along,  I remarked  near  some  of  the  lodges  a 
kind  of  tripod  frame,  formed  of  three  slender  poles  of  birch,  scraped  very 
clean,  to  which  were  affixed  the  shield  and  spear,  with  some  other  weap- 
ons of  a chief.  All  were  scrupulously  clean,  the  spear  head  was  burnish- 
ed bright,  and  the  shield  white  and  stainless.  It  reminded  me  of  the 
days  of  feudal  chivalry  ; and  when,  as  I rode  by,  I yielded  to  the  passing 
impulse,  and  touched  one  of  the  spotless  shields  with  the  muzzle  of  my 
gun,  I almost  expected  a grim  warrior  to  start  from  the  lodge  and  resent 
my  challenge.  The  master  of  the  lodge  spread  out  a robe  for  me  to  sit 
upon,  and  the  squaws  set  before  us  a large  wooden  dish  of  bnffalo  meat. 
He  had  lit  his  pipe  in  the  mean  while,  and  when  it  had  been  passed 
around,  we  commenced  our  dinner  while  he  continued  to  smoke.  Grad- 
ually, five  or  six  other  chiefs  came  in,  and  took  their  seats  in  silence. 
When  we  had  finished,  our  host  asked  a number  of  questions  relative  to 
the  object  of  our  journey,  of  which  I made  no  concealment;  telling  him 
simply  that  I had  made  a visit  to  see  the  country,  preparatory  to  the  es- 


30 


[ 174  ] 

tablishment  of  military  posts  on  the  way  to  the  mountains.  Although 
this  was  information  of  the  highest  interest  to  them,  and  by  no  means 
calculated  to  please  them,  it  excited  no  expression  of  surprise,  and  in  no 
way  altered  the  grave  courtesy  of  their  demeanor.  The  others  listened 
and  smoked.  I remarked,  that  in  taking  the  pipe  for  the  first  time,  each 
had  turned  the  stem  upward,  with  a rapid  glance,  as  in  offering  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  before  he  put  it  in  his  mouth.  A storm  had  been  gathering 
for  the  past  hour,  and  some  pattering  drops  on  the  lodge  warned  us  that 
we  had  some  miles  to  our  camp.  Some  Indian  had  given  Maxwell  a 
bundle  of  dried  meat,  which  was  very  acceptable,  as  we  had  nothing;  and, 
springing  upon  our  horses,  we  rode  off  at  dusk  in  the  face  of  a cold 
shower  and  driving  wind.  We  found  our  companions  under  some  densely 
foliaged  old  trees,  about  three  miles  up  the  river.  Under  one  of  them  lay 
the  trunk  of  a large  cottonwood,  to  leeward  of  which  the  men  had  kin- 
dled a fire,  and  we  sat  here  and  roasted  our  meat  in  tolerable  shelter. 
Nearly  opposite  was  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  most  considerable  affluents 
of  the  South  fork,  la  Fourche  aux  Castors , (Beaver  fork,)  heading  off  in 
the  ridge  to  the  southeast. 

July  9. — This  morning  we  caught  the  first  faint  glimpse  of  the  Rocky 
mountains,  about  sixty  miles  distant.  Though  a tolerably  bright  day, 
there  was  a slight  mist,  and  we  were  just  able  to  discern  the  snowy  sum- 
mit of  “ Long’s  peak,”  (“  les  deux  oreilles”  of  the  Canadians,)  showing 
like  a small  cloud  near  the  horizon.  I found  it  easily  distinguishable, 
there  being  a perceptible  difference  in  its  appearance  from  the  white 
clouds  that  were  floating  about  the  sky.  I was  pleased  to  find  that 
among  the  traders  and  voyageurs  the  name  of  “ Long’s  peak**  had  been 
adopted  and  become  familiar  in  the  country.  In  the  ravines  near  this 
place,  a light  brown  sandstone  made  its  first  appearance.  About  8,  we 
discerned  several  persons  on  horseback  a mile  or  two  ahead,  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  river.  They  turned  in  towards  the  river,  and  we  rode 
down  to  meet  them.  We  found  them  to  be  two  white  men,  and  a mu- 
latto named  Jim  Beckwith,  who  had  left  St.  Louis  when  a boy,  and  gone 
to  live  with  the  Crow  Indians.  He  had  distinguished  himself  among 
them  by  some  acts  of  daring  bravery,  and  had  risen  to  the  rank  of  a chief, 
but  had  now,  for  some  years, left  them.  They  were  in  search  of  a band  of 
horses  that  had  gone  off  from  a camp  some  miles  above,  in  charge  of  Mr. 
Chabonard.  Two  of  them  continued  down  the  river,  in  search  of  the 
horses,  and  the  American  turned  back  with  us,  and  we  rode  on  towards 
the  camp.  About  eight  miles  from  our  sleeping  place  we  reached  Bijou’s 
fork,  an  affluent  of  the  right  bank.  Where  we  crossed  it,  a short  distance 
from  the  Platte,  it  has  a sandy  bed  about  four  hundred  yards  broad  ; the 
water  in  various  small  streams,  a few  inches  deep.  Seven  miles  further 
brought  us  to  a camp  of  some  four  or  five  whites,  (New  Englanders,  I be- 
lieve,) who  had  accompanied  Captain  Wyeth  to  the  Columbia  river,  and 
were  independent  trappers.  All  had  their  squaws  with  them,  and  I was 
really  surprised  at  the  number  of  little  fat  buffalo-fed  boys  that  were  tum- 
bling about  the  camp,  all  apparently  of  the  same  age,  about  three  or  four 
years  old.  They  were  encamped  on  a rich  bottom,  covered  with  a pro- 
fusion of  fine  grass,  and  had  a large  number  of  fine-looking  horses  and 
mules.  We  rested  with  them  a few  minutes,  and  in  about  two  miles  ar- 
rived at  Chabonard’s  camp,  on  an  island  in  the  Platte.  On  the  heights 
above,  we  met  the  first  Spaniard  I had  seen  in  the  country.  Mr.  Chabo- 


31 


[ 174  ] . 

nard  was  in  the  service  of  Bent  and  St.  Vrain’s  company,  and  had  left 
their  fort  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  above,  in  the  spring,  with  boats  laden 
with  the  furs  of  the  last  year’s  trade.-  He  had  met  the  same  fortune  as 
the  voyageurs  on  the  North  fork,  and,  finding  it  impossible  to  proceed,  had 
taken  up  his  summer’s  residence  on  this  island,  which  he  had  named  St. 
Helena.  The  river  hills  appeared  to  be  composed  entirely  of  sand,  and 
the  Platte  had  lost  the  muddy  character  of  its  waters,  and  here  was  toler- 
ably clear.  From  the  mouth  of  the  South  fork,  I had  found  it  Occasion- 
ally broken  up  by  small  islands;  and  at  the  time  of  our  journey,  which 
was  at  a season  of  the  year  when  the  waters  were  at  a favorable  stage,  it 
was  not  navigable  for  any  thing  drawing  six  inches  water.  The  current 
was  very  swift — the  bed  of  the  stream  a coarse  gravel. 

From  the  place  at  which  we  had  encountered  the  Arapahoes,  the  Piatte 
had  been  tolerably  well  fringed  with  timber,  and  the  island  here  had  a 
fine  grove  of  very  large  cottonwoods,  under  whose  broad  shade  the  tents 
were  pitched.  There  was  a large  drove  of  horses  in  the  opposite  prairie 
bottom;  smoke  was  rising  from  the  scattered  fires,  and  the  encampment 
had  quite  a patriarchal  air.  Mr.  C.  received  us  hospitably.  One  of  the 
people  was  sent  to  gather  mint,  with  the  aid  of  which  he  concocted  very 
good  julep;  and  some  boiled  buffalo  tongue,  and  coffee  with  the  luxury 
of  sugar,  were  soon  set  before  us.  The  people  in  his  employ  were  gene- 
rally Spaniards,  and  among  them  I saw  a young  Spanish  woman  from 
Taos,  whom  I found  to  be  Beckwith’s  wife. 

July  10. — We  parted  with  our  hospitable  host  after  breakfast  the  next 
morning,  and  reached  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  about  forty-five  miles  from  St.  Hele- 
na, late  in  the  evening.  This  post  is  situated  on  the  South  fork  of  the  Piatte, 
immediately  under  the  mountains,  about  seventeen  miles  east  of  Long’s 
peak.  It  is  on  the  right  bank,  on  the  verge  of  the  upland  prairie,  about 
forty  feet  above  the  river,  of  which  the  immediate  valley  is  about  six  hun- 
dred yards  wide.  The  stream  is  divided  into  various  branches  by  small 
islands,  among  which  it  runs  with  a swift  current.  The  bed  of  the  river 
is  sand  and  gravel,  the  water  very  clear,  and  here  may  be  called  a mountain 
stream.  This  region  appears  to  be  entirely  free  from  the  limestones  and 
marls  which  give  to  the  Lower  Platte  its  yellow  and  dirty  color.  The 
Black  hills  lie  between  the  stream  and  the  mountains,  whose  snowy  peaks 
glitter  a few  miles  beyond.  At  the  fort  we  found  Mr.  St.  Vrain,  who  re- 
ceived us  with  much  kindness  and  hospitality.  Maxwell  had  spent  the 
last  two  or  three  years  between  this  post  and  the  village  of  Taos  ; and  here 
he  was  at  home,  and  among  his  friends.  Spaniards  frequently  come  over 
in  search  of  employment  ; and  several  came  in  shortly  after  our  arrival. 
They  usually  obtain  about  six  dollars  a month,  generally  paid  to  them  in 
goods.  They  are  very  useful  in  a camp,  in  taking  care  of  horses  and 
mules;  and  I engaged  one,  who  proved  to  be  an  active,  laborious  man, 
and  was  of  very  considerable  service  to  me.  The  elevation  of  the  Platte 
here  is  five  thousand  four  hundred  feet  above  the  sea.  The  neighboring 
mountains  did  not  appear  to  enter  far  the  region  of  perpetual  snow,  which 
was  generally  confined  to  the  northern  side  of  the  peaks.  On  the  south- 
ern, I remarked  very  little.  Here  it  appeared,  so  far  as  I could  judge  in 
the  distance,  to  descend  but  a few  hundred  feet  below  the  summits. 

I regretted  that  time  did  not  permit  me  to  visit  them ; but  the  proper 
object  of  my  survey  lay  among  the  mountains  further  north  ; and  I looked 
forward  to  an  exploration  of  their  snowy  recesses  with  great  pleasure. 


32 


C 174  ] 

The  piney  region  of  the  mountains  to  the  south  was  enveloped  in  smoke, 
and  I wafc  informed  had  been  on  fire  for  several  months.  Pike’s  peak  is 
said  to  be  visible  from  this  place,  about  one  hundred  miles  to  the  south- 
ward ; but  the  smoky  state  of  the  atmosphere  prevented  my  seeing  it. 
The  weather  continued  Qvercast  during  my  stay  here,  so  that  I failed  in 
determining  the  latitude,  but  obtained  good  observations  for  time  on  the 
mornings  of  the  11th  and  12th.  An  assumed  latitude  of  40°  22'  30"  from 
the  evening  position  of  the  12th,  enabled  me  to  obtain,  for  a tolerably  cor- 
rect longitude,  105°  12'  12". 

July  12. — The  kindness  of  Mr.  St.  Vrain  had  enabled  me  to  obtain  a 
couple  of  horses  and  three  good  mules ; and,  with  a further  addition  to  our 
party  of  the  Spaniard  whom  I had  hired,  and  two  others,  who  were 
going  to  obtain  service  at  Laramie’s  fork,  we  resumed  our  journey  at  10, 
on  the  morning  of  the  12th.  We  had  been  able  to  procure  nothing  at  the 
post,  in  the  way  of  provision.  An  expected  supply  from  Taos  had  not  yet 
arrived,  and  a few  pounds  of  coffee  was  all  that  could  be  spared  to  us.  In 
addition  to  this,  we  had  dried  meat  enough  for  the  first  day  ; on  the  next, 
we  expected  to  find  buffalo.  From  this  post,  according  to  the  estimate  of 
the  country,  the  fort  at  the  mouth  of  Laramie’s  fork,  which  was  our  next 
point  of  destination,  was  nearly  due  north,  distant  about  one  hundred  and 
twenty -five  miles. 

For  a short  distance,  our  road  lay  down  the  valley  of  the  Platte,  which 
resembled  a garden  in  the  splendor  of  fields  of  varied  flowers,  which  filled 
the  air  with  fragrance.  The  only  timber  I noticed  consisted  of  poplar, 
birch,  cottonwood,  and  wiilow.  In  something  less  than  three  miles,  we 
crossed  Thompson’s  creek,  one  of  the  affluents  to  the  left  bank  of  the 
South  fork — a fine  stream  about  sixty-five  feet  wide,  and  three  feet  deep. 
Journeying  on,  the  low  dark  line  of  the  Black  hills  lying  between  us  and 
the  mountains  to  the  left,  in  about  ten  miles  from  the  fort,  we  reached  Cache 
a la  Poudre , where  we  halted  to  noon.  This  is  a very  beautiful  moun- 
tain stream,  about  one  hundred  feet  wide,  flowing  with  a full  swift  cur- 
rent over  a rocky  bed.  We  halted  under  the  shade  of  some  cottonwoods, 
with  which  the  stream  is  wooded  seatteringly.  In  the  upper  part  of  its 
course,  it  runs  amid  the  wildest  mountain  scenery,  and,  breaking  through 
the  Black  hills,  falls  into  the  Platte  about  ten  miles  below  this  place.  In 
the  course  of  our  late  journey,  I had  managed  to  become  the  possessor  of 
a very  untractable  mule — a perfect  vixen — and  her  I had  turned  over  to 
my  Spaniard.  It  occupied  us  about  half  an  hour  to-day  to  get  the  saddle 
upon  her;  but,  once  on  her  back,  Jose  could  not  be  dismounted,  realizing 
the  accounts  given  of  Mexican  horses  and  horsemanship  ; and  we  contin- 
ued our  route  in  the  afternoon. 

At  evening,  we  encamped  on  Crow  (?)  creek,  having  travelled  about 
twenty-eight  miles.  None  of  the  party  were  well  acquainted  with  the 
country,  and  I had  great  difficulty  in  ascertaining  what  were  the  names 
of  the  streams  we  crossed  between  the  North  and  South  forks  of  the  Platte. 
This  I supposed  to  be  Crow  creek.  It  is  what  is  called  a salt  stream,  and 
the  water  stands  in  pools,  having  no  continuous  course.  A fine-grained 
sandstone  made  its  appearance  in  the  banks.  The  observations  of  the 
night  placed  us  in  latitude  40°  42',  longitude  104°  57'  49".  The  barom- 
eter at  sunset  was  25.231;  attached  thermometer  at  66°.  Sky  clear,  except 
in  the  east,  with  a light  wind  from  the  north. 

July  13. — There  being  no  wood  here,  we  used  last  night  the  hois  de 


33 


[ 1^4  ] 

vache,  which  is  very  plentiful.  At  our  camp  this  morning,  the  barometer 
was  at  25.2 35  ; the  attached  thermometer  60°.  A few  clouds  were  moving 
through  a deep-blue  sky,  with  a light  wind  from  the  west.  After  a ride 
of  twelve  miles,  in  a northerly  direction,  over  a plain  covered  with  innu- 
merable quantities  of  cacti , we  reached  a small  creek  in  which  there  was 
water,  and  where  several  herds  of  buffalo  were  scattered  about  among  the 
ravines,  which  always  afford  good  pasturage.  We  seem  now  to  be  pass- 
ing along  the  base  of  a plateau  of  the  Black  hills,  in  which  the  formation 
consists  of  marls,  some  of  them  white  and  laminated  ; the  country  to  the 
left  rising  suddenly,  and  falling  off  gradually  and  uniformly  to  the  right. 
In  five  or  six  miles  of  a northeasterly  course,  we  struck  a high  ridge, 
broken  into  conical  peaks,  on  whose  summits  large  boulders  were  gathered 
in  heaps.  The  magnetic  direction  of  the  ridge  is  northwest  and  south- 
east, the  glittering  white  of  its  precipitous  sides  making  it  visible  for  many 
miles  to  the  south.  It  is  composed  of  a soft  earthy  limestone  and  marls, 
resembling  that,  hereafter  described,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Chimney 
rock,  on  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  easily  worked  by  the  winds  and 
rains,  and  sometimes  moulded  into  very  fantastic  shapes.  At  the  foot  of 
the  northern  slope  was  the  bed  of  a creek,  some  forty  feet  wide,  coming, 
by  frequent  falls,  from  the  bench  above.  It  was  shut  in  by  high  perpen- 
dicular banks,  in  which  were  strata  of  white  laminated  marl.  Its  bed 
was  perfectly  dry,  and  the  leading  feature  of  the  whole  region  is  one 
of  remarkable  aridity,  and  perfect  freedom  from  moisture.  In  about 
six  miles  we  crossed  the  bed  of  another  dry  creek  ; and,  continuing  our 
ride  over  a high  level  prairie,  a little  before  sundown  we  came  suddenly 
upon  a beautiful  creek,  which  revived  us  with  a feeling  of  delighted  sur- 
prise by  the  pleasant  contrast  of  the  deep  verdure  of  its  banks  with  the 
parched  desert  we  had  passed.  We  had  suffered  much  to-day,  both  men 
and  horses,  for  want  of  water ; having  met  with  it  but  once  in  our  unin- 
terrupted march  of  forty  miles,  and  an  exclusive  meat  diet  creates  much 
thirst. 

“ Las  bestias  tienen  mucha  hambre”  said  the  young  Spaniard,  inquir- 
ingly ; “ y la  genie  tambien ,”  said  I,  “ amigo , we’ll  camp  here.”  A stream 
of  good  and  clear  water  ran  winding  about  through  the  little  valley,  and  a 
herd  of  buffalo  were  quietly  feeding  a little  distance  below.  It  was  quite 
a hunter’s  paradise  ; and  while  some  ran  down  toward  the  band  to  kill  one 
for  supper,  others  collected  bois  de  vache  for  a fire,  there  being  no  wood  ; 
and  I amused  myself  with  hunting  for  plants  among  the  grass. 

It  will  be  seen,  by  occasional  remarks  on  the  geological  formation,  that 
the  constituents  of  the  soil  in  these  regions  are  good,  and  every  day  served 
to  strengthen  the  impression  in  my  mind,  confirmed  by  subsequent  ob- 
servation, that  the  barren  appearance  of  the  country  is  due  almost  en- 
tirely to  the  extreme  dryness  of  the  climate.  Along  our  route,  the  country 
had  seemed  to  increase  constantly  in  elevation.  According  to  the  indica- 
tion of  the  barometer,  we  were  at  our  encampment  5,440  feet  above  the 
sea. 

The  evening  was  very  clear,  with  a fresh  breeze  from  the  south,  50° 
east.  The  barometer  at  sunset  was  24.862,  the  thermometer  attached 
showing  68°.  I supposed  this  to  be  a fork  of  Lodge  Pole  creek,  so  far  as 
I could  determine  from  our  uncertain  means  of  information.  Astronomi- 
cal observations  gave  for  the  camp  a longitude  of  104°  39'  37",  and  lati- 
tude 41°  08'  31". 


3 


34 


[ 174  ] 

July  14, — The  wind  continued  fresh  from  the  same  quarter  in  the  morn- 
ing ; the  day  being  cleat,  with  the  exception  of  a few  clouds  in  the  hori- 
zon. At  our  camp  at  6 o’clock,  the  height  of  the  barometer  was  24.830, 
the  attached  thermometer  61°.  Our  course  this  morning  was  directly 
north  by  compass,  the  variation  being  15°  or  16°  easterly.  A ride  of  four 
miles  brought  us  to  Lodge  Pole  creek,  which  we  had  seen  at  its  mouth 
on  the  South  fork ; crossing  on  the  way  two  dry  streams,  in  eighteen  miles 
from  our  encampment  of  the  past  night,  we  reached  a high  bleak  ridge, 
composed  entirely  of  the  same  earthy  limestone  and  marl  previously  de- 
scribed. I had  never  seen  any  thing  which  impressed  so  strongly  on  my 
mind  a feeling  of  desolation.  The  valley,  through  which  ran  the  waters 
of  Horse  creek,  lay  in  view  to  the  north,  but  too  far  to  have  any  influence 
on  the  immediate  view.  On  the  peak  of  the  ridge  where  I was  standing, 
some  six  or  seven  hundred  feet  above  the  river,  the  wind  was  high  and 
bleak;  the  barren  and  arid  country  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  swept  by 
fires,  and  in  every  direction  the  same  dull  ash-colored  hue,  derived  from 
the  formation,  met  the  eye.  On  the  summits  were  some  stunted  pines, 
many  of  them  dead,  all  wearing  the  same  ashen  hue  of  desolation.  We 
left  the  place  with  pleasure  ; and,  after  we  had  descended  several  hundred 
-feet,  halted  in  one  of  the  ravines,  which,  at  the  distance  of  every  mile  or 
two,  cut  the  flanks  of  the  ridge  with  little  rushing  streams,  wearing  some- 
thing of  a mountain  character.  We  had  already  begun  to  exchange  the 
comparatively  barren  lands  for  those  of  a more  fertile  character.  Though 
the  sandstone  formed  the  broken  banks  of  the  creek,  yet  they  were  cov- 
ered with  a thin  grass  ; and  the  fifty  or  sixty  feet  which  formed  the  bottom 
land  of  the  little  stream  were  clothed  with  very  luxuriant  grass,  among 
which  I remarked  willow  and  cherry,  ( cerasus  virginiana  ;)  and  a quan- 
tity of  gooseberry  and  currant  bushes  occupied  the  greater  part. 

The  creek  was  three  or  four  feet  l>road,  and  about  six  inches  deep,  with 
a swift  current  of  clear  water,  and  tolerably  cool.  We  had  struck  it  too 
low  down  to  find  the  cold  water,  which  we  should  have  enjoyed  nearer 
to  its  sources.  At  2,  p.  m.,  the  barometer  was  at  25.050,  the  attached 
thermometer  104°.  A day  of  hot  sunshine,  with  clouds,  and  a moderate 
breeze  from  the  south.  Continuing  down  the  stream,  in  about  four  miles 
we  reached  its  mouth,  at  one  of  the  main  branches  of  Horse  creek.  Looking 
back  upon  the  ridge,  whose  direction  appeared  to  be  a little  to  the  north  of 
east,  we  saw  it  seamed  at  frequent  intervals  with  the  dark  lines  of  wooded 
streams,  affluents  of  the  river  that  flowed  so  far  as  we  could  see  along  its 
base.  We  crossed,  in  the  space  of  twelve  miles  from  our  noon  halt,  three 
or  four  forks  of  Horse  creek,  and  encamped  at  sunset  on  the  most  easterly. 

The  fork  on  which  we  encamped  appeared  to  have  followed  an  easterly 
direction  up  to  this  place ; but  here  it  makes  a very  sudden  bend  to  the 
north,  passing  between  two  ranges  of  precipitous  hills,  called,  as  I was  in- 
formed, Goshen’s  hole.  There  is  somewhere  in  or  near  this  locality  a 
place  so  called,  but  I am  not  certain  thkt  it  was  the  place  of  our  encamp- 
ment. Looking  back  upon  the  spot,  at  the  distance  of  a few  miles  to  the 
northward,  the  hills  appear  to  shut  in  the  prairie,  through  which  runs  the 
creek,  with  a semi-circular  sweep,  which  might  very  naturally  be  called  a 
hole  in  the  hills.  The  geological  composition  of  the  ridge  is  the  same 
which  constitutes  the  rock  of  the  Court-house  and  Chimney,  on  the  North 
fork,  which  appeared  to  me  a continuation  of  this  ridge.  The  winds  and 
rains  work  this  formation  into  a variety  of  singular  forms.  The  pass  into 


35 


C 174  ] 

Goshen’s  hole  is  about  two  miles  wide,  and  the  hill  on  the  western  side 
imitates,  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  a massive  fortified  place,  with  a re- 
markable fulness  of  detail.  The  rock  is  marl  and  earthy  limestone,  white, 
without  the  least  appearance  of  vegetation,  and  much  resembles  masonry 
at  a little  distance ; and  here  it  sweeps  around  a level  area  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  in  diameter,  and  in  the  'form  of  a half  moon,  terminating 
on  either  extremity  in  enormous  bastions.  Along  the  whole  line  of  the 
parapets  appear  domes  and  slender  minarets,  forty  or  fifty  feet  high,  giving 
it  every  appearance  of  an  old  fortified  town.  On  the  waters  of  White 
river,  where  this  formation  exists  in  great  extent,  it  presents  appearances 
which  excite  the  admiration  of  the  solitary  voyageur,  and  form  a frequent 
theme  of  their  conversation  when  speaking  of  the  wonders  of  the  country. 
Sometimes  it  offers  the  perfectly  illusive  appearance  of  a large  city,  with 
numerous  streets  and  magnificent  buildings,  among  which  the  Canadians 
never  fail  to  see  their  cabaret ; and  sometimes  it  takes  the  form  of  a soli- 
tary house,  with  many  large  chambers,  into  which  they  drive  their  horses 
at  night,  and  sleep  in  these  natural  defences  perfectly  secure  from  any  at- 
tack of  prowling  savages.  Before  reaching  our  camp  at  Goshen’s  hole,  in 
crossing  the  immense  detritus  at  the  foot  of  the  Castle  rock,  we  were  in- 
volved amidst  winding  passages  cut  by  the  waters  of  the  hill;  and  where, 
with  a breadth  scarcely  large  enough  for  the  passage  of  a horse,  the  walls 
rise  thirty  and  forty  feet  perpendicularly.  This  formation  supplies  the 
discoloration  of  the  Platte.  At  sunset,  the  height  of  the  mercurial  column 
was  25.500,  the  attached  thermometer  80°,  and  wind  moderate  from  S. 
38°  E.  Clouds  covered  the  sky  with  the  rise  of  the  moon,  but  I succeeded 
in  obtaining  the  usual  astronomical  observations,  which  placed  us  in  latitude 
41°  40'  13",  and  longitude  104°  24'  36". 

July  15. — At  6 this  morning,  the  barometer  was  at  25.515,  the  thermom- 
eter 72°;  the  day  was  fine,  with  some  clouds  looking  dark  on  the  south,  with 
a fresh  breeze  from  the  same  quarter.  We  found  that  in  our  journey  across 
the  country  we  had  kept  too  much  to  the  eastward.  This  morning,  accord- 
ingly, we  travelled  by  compass  some  15  or  20°  to  the  west  of  north,  and 
struck  the  Platte  some  thirteen  miles  below  Fort  Laramie.  The  day  was 
extremely  hot,  and  among  the  hills  the  wind  seemed  to  have  just  issued 
from  an  oven.  Our  horses  were  much  distressed,  as  we  had  travelled 
hard ; and  it  was  with  some  difficulty  that  they  were  all  brought  to  the 
Platte ; which  we  reached  at  1 o’clock.  In  riding  in  towards  the  river, 
we  found  the  trail  of  our  carts,  which  appeared  to  have  passed  a day  or 
two  since. 

After  having  allowed  our  animals  two  hours  for  food  and  repose,  we 
resumed  our  journey,  and  towards  the  close  of  the  day  came  in  sight  of 
Laramie’s  fork.  Issuing  from  the  river  hills,  we  came  first  in  view  of 
Fort  Platte,  a post  belonging  to  Messrs.  Sybille,  Adams,  & Co.,  situated 
immediately  in  the  point  of  land  at  the  junction  of  Laramie  with  the 
Platte.  Like  the  post  we  had  visited  on  the  South  fork,  it  was  built  of 
earth,  and  still  unfinished,  being  enclosed  with  walls  (or  rather  houses)  on 
three  of  the  sides,  and  open  on  the  fourth  to  the  river.  A few  hundred 
yards  brought  us  in  view  of  the  post  of  the  American  Fur  Company,  call- 
ed Fort  John,  or  Laramie.  This  was  a large  post,  having  more  the  air  of 
military  construction  than  the  fort  at  the  mouth  of  the  river.  It  is  on  the 
left  bank,  on  a rising  ground  some  twenty  five  feet  above  the  water;  and 
its  lofty  walls,  whitewashed  and  picketed,  with  the  large  bastions  at  the 


36 


[ 174  ] 


\ 


angles,  gave  it  quite  an  imposing  appearance  in  the  uncertain  light  of 
evening.  A cluster  of  lodges,  which  the  language  told  us  belonged  to 
Sioux  Indians,  was  pitched  under  the  walls,  and,  with  the  fine  back 
ground  of  the  Black  hills  and  the  prominent  peak  of  Laramie  mountain, 
strongly  drawn  in  the  clear  light  of  the  western  sky,  where  the  sun  had 
already  set,  the  whole  formed  at  the  moment  a strikingly  beautiful  picture. 
From  the  company  at  St.  Louis  I had  letters  for  Mr.  Boudeau,  the  gentle- 
man in  charge  of  the  post,  by  whom  I was  received  with  great  hospitality 
and  an  efficient  kindness,  which  was  invaluable  to  me  during  my  stay  in 
the  country.  I found  our  people  encamped  on  the  bank,  a short  distance 
above  the  fort..  All  were  well ; and,  in  the  enjoyment  of  a bountiful  sup- 
per, which  coffee  and  bread  made  luxurious  to  us,  we  soon  forgot  the  fa- 
tigues of  the  last  ten  days. 

July  16. — I found  that,  during  my  absence,  the  situation  of  affairs  had 
undergone  some  change ; and  the  usual  quiet  and  somewhat  monotonous 
regularity  of  the  camp  had  given  place  to  excitement  and  alarm.  The 
circumstances  which  occasioned  this  change  will  be  found  narrated  in  the 
following  extract  from  the  journal  of  Mr.  Preuss,  which  commences  with 
the  day  of  our  separation  on  the  South  fork  of  the  Platte. 

Extract  from  the  journal  of  Mr.  Preuss . 


“July  6. — We  crossed  the  plateau  or  highland  between  the  two  forks  in 
about  six  hours.  I let  my  horse  go  as  slow  as  he  liked,  to  indemnify  us 
both  for  the  previous  hardship ; and  about  noon  we  reached  the  North 
fork.  There  was  no  sign  that  our  party  had  passed  ; we  rode,  therefore, 
to  some  pine  trees,  unsaddled  the  horses,  and  stretched  our  limbs  on  the 
grass,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  our  company.  After  remaining  here  two 
hours,  my  companion  became  impatient,  mounted  his  horse  again,  and 
rode  off  down  the  river  to  see  if  he  could  discover  our  people.  I felt  so 
marode  yet,  that  it  was  a horrible  idea  to  me  to  bestride  that  saddle  again; 
so  1 lay  still.  1 knew  they  could  not  come  any  other  way,  and  then  my 
companion,  one  of  the  best  men  of  the  company,  would  not  abandon  me. 
The  sun  went  down;  he  did  not  come.  Uneasy  I did  not  feel,  but  very 
hungry ; I had  no  provisions,  but  I could  make  a fire ; and  as  I espied 
two  doves  in  a tree,  I tried  to  kill  one;  but  it  needs  a better  marksman 
than  myself  to  kill  a little  bird  with  a rifle.  I made  a large  fire,  however, 
lighted  my  pipe — this  true  friend  of  mine  in  every  emergency — lay  down, 
and  let  my  thoughts  wander  to  the  far  east.  It  was  not  many  minutes  after 
when  I heard  the  tramp  of  a horse,  and  my  faithful  companion  was  by 
my  side.  He  had  found  the  party,  who  had  been  delayed  by  making 
their  cache , about  seven  miles  below.  To  the  good  supper  which  he 
brought  with  him  I did  ample  justice.  He  had  forgotten  salt,  and  I tried 
the  soldier’s  substitute  in  time  of  war,  and  used  gunpowder ; but  it  an- 
swered badly — bitter  enough,  but  no  flavor  of  kitchen  salt.  I slept  well ; 
and  was  only  disturbed  by  two  owls,  which  were  attracted  by  the  fire, 
and  took  their  place  in  the  tree  under  which  we  slept.  Their  music 
seemed  as  disagreeable  to  my  companion  as  to  myself ; he  fired  his  rifle 
twice,  and  then  they  let  us  alone. 

“July  7. — At  about  10  o’clock,  the  party  arrived;  and  we  continued  our 
journey  through  a country  which  offered  but  little  to  interest  the  traveller. 
The  soil  was  much  more  sandy  than  in  the  valley  below  the  confluence 


» 


37 


[ 174  ] 

of  the  forks,  and  the  face  of  the  country  no  longer  presented  the  refresh- 
ing green  which  had  hitherto  characterized  it.  The  rich  grass  was  now 
found  only  in  dispersed  spots,  on  low  grounds,  and  on  the  bottom  land  of 
the  streams.  A long  drought,  joined  to  extreme  heat,  had  so  parched  up 
the  upper  prairies,  that  they  were  in  many  places  bald,  or  covered  only 
with  a thin  growth  of  yellow  and  poor  grass.  The  nature  of  the  soil  ren- 
ders it  extremely  susceptible  to  the  vicissitudes  of  the  climate.  Between 
the  forks,  and  from  their  junction  to  the  Black  hills,  the  formation  con- 
sists of  marl  and  a soft  earthy  limestone,  with  granitic  sandstone.  Such  a 
formation  cannot  give  rise  to  a sterile  soil ; and,  on  our  return  in  Septem- 
ber, when  the  country  had  been  watered  by  frequent  rains,  the  valley  of 
the  Platte  looked  like  a garden ; so  rich  was  the  verdure  of  the  grasses, 
and  so  luxuriant  the  bloom  of  abundant  flowers.  The  wild  sage  begins  to 
make  its  appearance,  and  timber  is  so  scarce  that  we  generally  made  our 
fires  of  the  bois  de  vache.  With  the  exception  of  now  and  then  an  isolated 
tree  or  two,  standing  like  a light-house  on  the  river  bank,  there  is  none 
whatever  to  be  seen. 

“ July  8. — Our  road  to-day  was  a solitary  one.  No  game  made  its  appear- 
ance— not  even  a buffalo  or  a stray  antelope  ; and  nothing  occurred  to  break 
the  monotony  until  about  5 o’clock,  when  the  caravan  made  a sudden  halt. 
There  was  a galloping  in  of  scouts  and  horsemen  from  every  side — a hur- 
rying to  and  fro  in  noisy  confusion ; rifles  were  taken  from  their  cover ; 
bullet  pouches  examined  : in  short,  there  was  the  cry  of  6 Indians,’  heard 
again.  I had  become  so  much  accustomed  to  these  alarms,  that  now  they 
made  but  little  impression  on  me  ; and  before  I had  time  to  become  ex- 
cited, the  new  comers  were  ascertained  to  be  whites.  It  was  a large  party 
of  traders  and  trappers,  conducted  by  Mr.  Bridger,  a man  well  known  in 
the  history  of  the  country.  As  the  sun  was  low,  and  there  was  a fine  grass 
patch  not  far  ahead,  they  turned  back  and  encamped  for  the  night  with 
us.  Mr.  Bridger  was  invited  to  supper ; and,  after  ihe  table  cloth  was 
removed,  we  listened  with  eager  interest  to  an  account  of  their  adventures. 
What  they  had  met,  we  would  be  likely  to  encounter;  the  chances  which 
had  befallen  them,  would  probably  happen  to  us  ; and  we  looked  upon 
their  life  as  a picture  of  our  own.  He  informed  us  that  the  condition  of 
the  country  had  become  exceedingly  dangerous.  The  Sioux,  who  had 
been  badly  disposed,  had  broken  out  into  open  histility,  and  in  the  preced- 
ing autumn  his  party  had  encountered  them  in  a severe  engagement,  in 
which  a number  of  lives  had  been  lost  on  both  sides.  United  with  the 
Cheyenne  and  Gros  Ventre  Indians,  they  were  scouring  the  upper  country 
in  war  parties  of  great  force,  and  were  at  this  time  in  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Red  Buttes,  a famous  landmark,  which  was  directly  on  our  path. 
They  had  declared  war  upon  every  living  thing  which  should  be  found 
westward  of  that  point  ; though  their  main  object  was  to  attack  a large 
camp  of  whites  and  Snake  Indians,  who  had  a rendezvous  in  the  Sweet 
Water  valley.  Availing  himself  of  his  intimate  knowledge  of  the  country, 
he  had  reached  Laramie  by  an  unusual  route  through  the  Black  hills,  and 
avoided  coming  into  contact  with  any  of  the  scattered  parties.  This  gen- 
tleman offered  his  services  to  accompany  us  so  far  as  the  head  of  the  Sweet 
Water ; but  the  absence  of  our  leader,  which  was  deeply  regretted  by  us 
all,  rendered  it  impossible  for  us  to  enter  upon  such  arrangement.  In  a 
camp  consisting  of  men  whose  lives  had  been  spent  in  this  country,  I ex- 
pected to  find  every  one  prepared  for  occurrences  of  this  nature;  but,  to 


38 


[ 1^4  ] 

my  great  surprise,  I found,  on  the  contrary,  that  this  news  had  thrown 
them  all  into  the  greatest  consternation ; and,  on  every  side,  I heard  only 
one  exclamation, 4 II  n’y  aura  pas  de  vie  pour  nous’  All  the  night,  scat- 
tered groups  were  assembled  around  the  fires,  smoking  their  pipes,  and 
listening  with  the  greatest  eagerness  to  exaggerated  details  of  Indian  hos- 
tilities ; and  in  the  morniug  I found  the  camp  dispirited,  and  agitated  by 
a variety  of  conflicting  opinions.  A majority  of  the  people  were  strongly 
disposed  to  return  ; but  Clement  Lambert,  with  some  five  or  six  others, 
professed  their  determination  to  follow  Mr.  Fremont  to  the  uttermost  limit 
of  his  journey.  The  others  yielded  to  their  remonstrances,  and,  some- 
what ashamed  of  their  cowardice,  concluded  to  advance  at  least  so  far  as 
Laramie  fork,  eastward  of  which  they  were  aware  no  danger  was  to  be 
apprehended.  Notwithstanding  the  confusion  and  excitement,  we  were 
very  early  on  the  road,  as  the  days  were  extremely  hot,  and  we  were 
anxious  to  profit  by  the  freshness  of  the  morning.  The  soft  marly  form- 
ation, over  which  we  were  now  journeying,  frequently  offers  to  the  trav- 
eller views  of  remarkable  and  picturesque  beauty.  To  several  of  these 
localities,  where  the  winds  and  the  rain  have  worked  the  bluffs  into 
curious  shapes,  the  voyageurs  have  given  names  according  to  some  fan- 
cied resemblance.  One  of  these,  called  the  Court-house , we  passed  about 
six  miles  from  our  encampment  of  last  night,  and  toward  noon  came  in 
sight  of  the  celebrated  Chimney  rock . It  looks,  at  this  distance  of  about 
thirty  miles,  like  what  it  is  called — the  long  chimney  of  a steam  factory  es- 
tablishment, or  a shot  tower  in  Baltimore.  Nothing  occurred  to  interrupt 
the  quiet  of  the  day,  and  we  encamped  on  the  river,  after  a march  of  twen- 
ty-four miles.  Buffalo  had  become  very  scarce,  and  but  one  cow  had  been 
killed,  of  which  the  meat  had  been  cut  into  thin  slices,  and  hung  around 
the  carts  to  dry. 

u July  10. — We  continued  along  the  same  fine  plainly  beaten  road, 
which  the  smooth  surface  of  the  country  afforded  us,  for  a distance  of  six 
hundred  and  thirty  miles,  from  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  to  the  Laramie  fork. 
In  the  course  of  the  day  we  met  some  whites,  who  were  following  along 
in  the  train  of  Mr.  Bridger ; and,  after  a day’s  journey  of  twenty-four 
miles,  encamped  about  sunset  at  the  Chimney  rock,  of  which  the  an- 
nexed drawing  will  render  any  description  unnecessary.  It  consists  of 
marl  and  earthy  limestone,  and  the  weather  is  rapidly  diminishing  its 
height,  which  is  now  not  more  than  two  hundred  feet  above  the  river. 
Travellers  who  visited  it  some  years  since  placed  its  height  at  upwards  of 
five  hundred  feet. 

“ July  11. — The  valley  of  the  North  fork  is  of  a variable  breadth,  from 
one  to  four,  and  sometimes  six  miles.  Fifteen  miles  from  the  Chimney 
rock  we  reached  one  of  those  places  where  the  river  strikes  the  bluffs, 
and  forces  the  road  to  make  a considerable  circuit  over  the  uplands. 
This  presented  an  escarpment  on  the  river  of  about  nine  hundred  yards 
in  length,  and  is  familiarly  known  as  Scott’s  bluffs.  We  had  made  a 
journey  of  thirty  miles  before  we  again  struck  the  river,  at  a place  where 
some  scanty  grass  afforded  an  insufficient  pasturage  to  our  animals. 
About  twenty  miles  from  the  Chimney  rock  we  had  found  a very  beau- 
tiful spring  of  excellent  and  cold  water ; but  it  was  in  such  a deep  ravine, 
and  so  small,  that  the  animals  could  not  profit  by  it,  and  we  therefore 
halted  only  a few  minutes,  and  found  a resting  place  ten  miles  further 
on.  The  plain  between  Scott’s  bluffs  and  Chimney  rock  was  almost 


so  -r  t 


39 


C 174  ] 

entirely  covered  with  drift  wood,  consisting  principally  of  cedar,  which, 
we  were  informed,  had  been  supplied  from  the  Black  hills,  in  a flood  five 
or  six  years  since. 

“ July  12. — Nine  miles  from  our  encampment  of  yesterday  we  crossed 
Horse  creek,  a shallow  stream  of  clear  water,  about  seventy  yards  wide, 
falling  into  the  Platte  on  the  right  bank.  It  was  lightly  timbered,  and 
great  quantities  of  drift  wood  were  piled  up  on  the  banks,  appearing  to  be 
supplied  by  the  creek  from  above.  After  a journey  of  twenty-six  miles, 
we  encamped  on  a rich  bottom,  which  afforded  fine  grass  to  our  animals. 
Buffalo  have  entirely  disappeared,  and  we  live  now  upon  the  dried  meat, 
which  is  exceedingly  poor  food.  The  marl  and  earthy  limestone,  which 
constituted  the  formation  for  several  days  past,  had  changed  during  the 
day  into  a compact  white  or  grayish  white  limestone,  sometimes  contain- 
ing hornstone  ; and  at  the  place  of  our  encampment  this  evening,  some 
strata  in  the  river  hills  cropped  out  to  the  height  of  thirty  or  forty  feet, 
consisting  of  a fine-grained  granitic  sandstone;  one  of  the  strata  closely 
resembling  gneiss. 

“ July  13. — To-day,  about  4 o’clock,  we  reached  Fort  Laramie,  where 
we  were  cordially  received ; we  pitched  our  camp  a little  above  the  fort, 
on  the  bank  of  Laramie  river,  in  which  the  pure  and  clear  water  of  the 
mountain  stream  looked  refreshingly  cool,  and  made  a pleasant  contrast  to 
the  muddy,  yellow  waters  of  the  Platte.” 

I walked  up  to  visit  our  friends  at  the  fort,  which  is  a quadrangular 
structure,  built  of  clay,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Mexicans,  who  are  gene- 
rally employed  in  building  them.  The  walls  are  about  fifteen  feet  high, 
surmounted  with  a wooden  palisade,  and  form  a portion  of  ranges  of 
houses,  which  entirely  surround  a yard  of  about  one  hundred  and  thirty 
feet  square.  Every  apartment  has  its  door  and  window — all,  of  course, 
opening  on  the  inside.  There  are  two  entrances,  opposite  each  other,  and 
midway  the  wall,  one  of  which  is  a large  and  public  entrance ; the  other 
smaller  and  more  private — a sort  of  postern  gate.'  Over  the  great  entrance 
is  a square  tower  with  loopholes,  and,  like  the  rest  of  the  work,  built  of 
earth.  At  two  of  the  angles,  and  diagonally  opposite  each  other,  are  large 
square  bastions,  so  arranged  as  to  sweep  the  four  faces  of  the  walls. 

This  post  belongs  to  the  American  Fur  Company,  and,  at  the  time  of  our 
visit,  was  in  charge  of  Mr.  Boudeau.  Two  of  the  company’s  clerks,  Messrs. 
Galpin  and  Kellogg,  were  with  him,  and  he  had  in  the  fort  about  sixteen 
men.  As  usual,  these  had  found  wives  among  the  Indian  squaws;  and, 
with  the  usual  accompaniment  of  children,  the  place  had  quite  a populous 
appearance.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say,  that  the  object  of  the  establish- 
ment is  trade  with  the  neighboring  tribes,  who,  in  the  course  of  the  year, 
generally  make  two  or  three  visits  to  the  fort.  In  addition  to  this,  traders, 
with  a small  outfit,  are  constantly  kept  amongst  them.  The  articles  of 
trade  consist,  on  the  one  side,  almost  entirely  of  buffalo  robes;  and,  on  the 
other,  of  blankets,  calicoes,  guns,  powder, ^and  lead,  with  such  cheap  or- 
naments as  glass  beads,  looking-glasses,  rings,  vermilion  for  painting,  to- 
bacco, and  principally,  and  in  spite  of  the  prohibition,  of  spirits,  brought 
into  the  country  in  the  form  of  alcohol,  and  diluted  with  water  before 
sold.  While  mentioning  this  fact,  it  is  but  justice  to  the  American  Fur 
Company  to  state,  that,  throughout  the  country,  I have  always  found 
them  strenuously  opposed  to  the  introduction  of  spirituous  liquors.  But, 


40 


C 174  ] 

in  the  present  state  of  things,  when  the  country  is  supplied  with  alcohol, 
when  a keg  of  it  will  purchase  from  an  Indian  every  thing  he  possesses — 
his  furs,  his  lodge,  his  horses,  and  even  his  wife  and  children — and  when 
any  vagabond  who  has  money  enough  to  purchase  a mule  can  go  into  a 
village  and  trade  against  them  successfully,  without  withdrawing  entirely 
from  the  trade,  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  discontinue  its  use.  In  their 
opposition  to  this  practice,  the  company  is  sustained,  not  only  by  their 
obligation  to  the  laws  of  the  country  and  the  welfare  of  the  Indians,  but 
clearly,  also,  on  grounds  of  policy  ; for,  with  heavy  and  expensive  outfits, 
they  contend  at  manifestly  great  disadvantage  against  the  numerous  inde- 
pendent and  unlicensed  traders,  who  enter  the  country  from  various  ave- 
nues, from  the  United  States  and  from  Mexico,  having  no  other  stock  in 
trade  than  some  kegs  of  liquor,  which  they  sell  at  the  modest  price  of 
thirty-six  dollars  per  gallon.  The  difference  between  the  regular  trader 
and  the  coureur  des  bois , (as  the  French  call  the  itinerant  or  peddling  tra- 
ders,) with  respect  to  the  sale  of  spirits,  is  here,  as  it  always  has  been,  fix- 
ed and  permanent,  and  growing  out  of  the  nature  of  their  trade.  The 
regular  trader  looks  ahead,  and  has  an  interest  in  the  preservation  of  the 
Indians,  and  in  the  regular  pursuit  of  their  business,  and  the  preservation 
of  their  arms,  horses,  and  every  thing  necessary  to  their  future  and  perma- 
nent success  in  hunting  : the  coureur  des  bois  has  no  permanent  interest, 
and  gets  what  he  can,  and  for  what  he  can,  from  every  Indian  he  meets, 
even  at  the  risk  of  disabling  him  from  doing  any  thing  more  at  hunting. 

The  fort  had  a very  cool  and  clean  appearance.  The  great  entrance,  in 
which  I found  the  gentlemen  assembled,  and  which  was  floored,  and  about 
fifteen  feet  long,  made  a pleasant,  shaded  seat,  through  which  the  breeze 
swept  constantly ; for  this  country  is  famous  for  high  winds.  In  the 
course  of  conversation,  I learned  the  following  particulars,  which  will  ex- 
plain the  condition  of  the  country:  For  several  years  the  Cheyennes  and 

Sioux  had  gradually  become  more  and  more  hostile  to  the  whites,  and 
in  the  latter  part  of  August,  1S41,  had  had  a rather  severe  engagement  with 
a party  of  sixty  men,  under  the  command  of  Mr.  Frapp,  of  St.  Louis.  The 
Indians  lost  eight  or  ten  warriors,  and  the  whites  had  their  leader  and 
four  men  killed.  This  fight  took  place  on  the  waters  of  Snake  river;  and 
it  was  this  party,  on  their  return  under  Mr.  Bridger,  which  had  spread 
so  much  alarm  among  my  people.  In  the  course  of  the  spring,  two  other 
small  parties  had  been  cut  off  by  the  Sioux — one  on  their  return  from  the 
Crow  nation,  and  the  other  among  the  Black  hills.  The  emigrants  to 
Oregon  and  Mr.  Bridger’s  party  met  here,  a few  days  before  our  arrival. 
Division  and  misunderstandings  had  grown  up  among  them ; they  were 
already  somewhat  disheartened  by  the  fatigue  of  their  long  and  weari- 
some journey,  and  the  feet  of  their  cattle  had  become  so  much  worn  as 
to  be  scarcely  able  to  travel.  In  this  situation,  they  were  not  likely  to 
find  encouragement  in  the  hostile  attitude  of  the  Indians,  and  the  new 
and  unexpected  difficulties  which  sprang  up  before  them.  They  were 
told  that  the  country  was  entirely  swept  of  grass,  and  that  few  or  no  buffa- 
lo were  to  be  found  on  their  line  of  route ; and,  with  their  weakened  ani- 
mals, it  would  be  impossible  for  them  to  transport  their  heavy  wagons 
over  the  mountain.  Under  these  circumstances,  they  disposed  of  their 
wagons  and  cattle  at  the  forts;  selling  them  at  the  prices  they  had  paid 
in  the  States,  and  taking  in  exchange  coffee  and  sugar  at  one  dollar  a 
pound,  and  miserable  worn-out  horses,  which  died  before  they  reached 


41 


C 174  3 

the  mountains.  Mr.  Boudeau  informed  me  that  he  had  purchased  thirty, 
and  the  lower  fort,  eighty  head  of  fine  cattle,  some  of  them  of  the  Durham 
breed.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  whose  name  and  high  reputation  are  familiar  to 
all  who  interest  themselves  in  the  history  of  this  country,  had  reached 
Laramie  in  company  with  Mr.  Bridger ; and  the  emigrants  were  fortunate 
enough  to  obtain  his  services  to  guide  them  as  far  as  the  British  post  of 
Fort  Hall,  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  beyond  the  South  Pass  of 
the  mountains.  They  had  started  for  this  post  on  the  4th  of  July,  and, 
immediaiely  after  their  departure,  a war  party  of  three  hundred  and  fifty 
braves  sat  out  upon  their  trail.  As  their  principal  chief  or  partisan  had 
lost  some  relations  in  the  recent  fight,  and  had  sworn  to  kill  the  first  whites 
on  his  path,  it  was  supposed  that  their  intention  was  to  attack  the  party, 
should  a favorable  opportunity  offer ; or,  if  they  were  foiled  in  their  prin- 
cipal object  by  the  vigilance  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  content  themselves  with 
stealing  horses  and  cutting  off  stragglers.  These  had  been  gone  but  a few 
days  previous  to  our  arrival. 

The  effect  of  the  engagement  with  Mr.  Frapp  had  been  greatly  to  irri- 
tate the  hostile  spirit  of  the  savages;  and  immediately  subsequent  to  that 
event,  the  Gros  Ventre  Indians  had  united  with  the  Oglallahs  and  Chey- 
ennes, and  taken  the  field  in  great  force — so  far  as  I could  ascertain,  to  the 
amount  of  eight  hundred  lodges.  Their  object  was  to  make  an  attack 
on  a camp  of  Snake  and  Crow  Indians,  and  a body  of  about  one  hundred 
whites,  who  had  made  a rendezvous  somewhere  in  the  Green  river  valley, 
or  on  the  Sweet  Water.  After  spending  some  time  in  buffalo  hunting  in 
the  neighborhood  of  the  Medicine  Bow  mountain,  they  were  to  cross  over 
to  the  Green  river  waters,  and  return  to  Laramie  by  way  of  the  South  Pass 
and  the  Sweet  Water  valley.  According  to  the  calculation  of  the  Indians, 
Mr.  Boudeau  informed  me  they  were  somewhere  near  the  head  of  the 
Sweet  Water.  I subsequently  learned  that  the  party  led  by  Mr.  Fitzpat- 
rick were  overtaken  by  their  pursuers  near  Rock  Independence,  in  the 
valley  of  the  Sweet  Water;  but  his  skill  and  resolution  saved  them  from 
surprise,  and,  small  as  his  force  was,  they  did  not  venture  to  attack  him 
openly.  Here  they  lost  one  of  their  party  by  an  accident,  and,  continuing 
up  the  valley,  they  came  suddenly  upon  the  large  village.  From  these 
they  met  with  a doubtful  reception.  Long  residence  and  familiar  acquaint- 
ance had  given  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  great  personal  influence  among  them, 
and  a portion  of  them  were  disposed  to  let  him  pass  quietly ; but  by  far 
the  greater  number  were  inclined  to  hostile  measures ; and  the  chiefs  spent 
the  whole  of  one  night,  during  which  they  kept  the  little  party  in  the  midst 
of  them,  in  council,  debating  the  question  of  attacking  them  the  r^xt  day ; 
but  the  influence  of  “ the  Broken  Hand,”  as  they  called  Mr.  Fitzpatrick, 
(one  of  his  hands  having  been  shattered  by  the  bursting  of  a gun,)  at  length 
prevailed,  and  obtained  for  them  an  unmolested  passa/ge  ; but  they  sternly 
assured  him  that  tnis  path  was  no  longer  open?  and  that  any  party  of 
whites  which  should  hereafter  be  found  upo^i  it  would  meet  with  certain, 
destruction.  From  all  that  I have  been*  able  to  learn,  I have  no  doubt 
that  the  emigrants  owe  their  lives  to  ]bir.  Fitzpatrick. 

Thus  it  would  appear  that  the.  country  was  swarming  with  scattered 
war  parties  ; and  when  I he^r(j)  during  the  day,  the  various  contradictory 
and  exaggerated  rumors  which  were  incessantly  repeated  to  them,  I was 
not  surprised  that  sq  much  alarm  prevailed  among  my  men.  Carson,  one 
of  the  best  and.  most  experienced  mountaineers,  fully  supported  the 


42 


[ 174  ] 

opinion  given  by  Bridger  of  the  dangerous  state  of  the  country,  aud 
openly  expressed  his  conviction  that  we  could  not  escape  without  some 
sharp  encounters  with  the  Indians.  In  addition  to  this,  he  made  his  will ; 
and  among  the  circumstances  which  were  constantly  occurring  to  increase 
' their  alarm,  this  was  the  most  unfortunate ; and  I found  that  a number 
of  my  party  had  become  so  much  intimidated,  that  they  had  requested  to 
be  discharged  at  this  place.  I dined  to-day  at  Fort  Platte,  which  has 
been  mentioned  as  situated  at  the  junction  of  Laramie  river  with  the  Ne- 
braska. Here  I heard  a confirmation  of  the  statements  given  above. 
The  party  of  warriors,  which  had  started  a few  days  since  on  the  trail  of 
the  emigrants,  was  expected  back  in  fourteen  days,  to  join  the  village 
with  which  their  families  and  the  old  men  had  remained.  The  arrival 
of  the  latter  was  hourly  expected  ; and  some  Indians  have  just  come  in 
who  had  left  them  on  the  Laramie  fork,  about  twenty  miles  above.  Mr. 
Bissonette,  one  of  the  traders  belonging  to  Fort  Platte,  urged  the  propriety 
of  taking  with  me  an  interpreter  and  two  or  three  old  men  of  the  village ; 
in  which  case,  he  thought  there  would  be  little  or  no  hazard  in  encounter- 
ing any  of  the  war  parties.  The  principal  danger  was  in  being  attacked 
before  they  should  know  who  we  were. 

They  had  a confused  idea  of  the  numbers  and  power  of  our  people,  and 
dreaded  to  bring  upon  themselves  the  military  force  of  the  United  States. 
This  gentleman,  who  spoke  the  language  fluently,  offered  his  services  to 
accompany  me  so  far  as  the  Red  Buttes.  He  was  desirous  to  join  the 
large  party  on  its  return,  for  purposes  of  trade,  and  it  would  suit  his  views, 
as  well  as  my  own,  to  go  with  us  to  the  Buttes;  beyond  which  point  it 
would  be  impossible  to  prevail  on  a Sioux  to  venture,  on  account  of  their 
fear  of  the  Crows.  From  Fort  Laramie  to  the  Red  Buttes,  by  the  ordi- 
nary road,  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  ; and,  though  only  on  the 
threshold  of  danger,  it  seemed  better  to  secure  the  services  of  an  inter- 
preter for  the  partial  distance,  than  to  have  none  at  all. 

So  far  as  frequent  interruption  from  the  Indians  would  allow,  we  occu- 
pied ourselves  in  making  some  astronomical  calculations,  and  bringing  up 
the  general  map  to  this  stage  of  our  journey ; but  the  tent  was  generally 
occupied  by  a succession  of  our  ceremonious  visiters.  Some  came  for 
presents,  and  others  for  information  of  our  object  in  coming  to  the  country  ; 
now  and  then,  one  would  dart  up  to  the  tent  on  horseback,  jerk  off  his 
trappings,  and  stand  silently  at  the  door,  holding  his  horse  by  the  halter, 
signifying  his  desire  to  trade.  Occasionally  a savage  would  stalk  in  with 
an  invitation  to  a feast  of  honor,  a dog  feast,  and  deliberately  sit  down 
and  wait  quietly  until  I was  ready  to  accompany  him.  I went  to  one  ; 
the  women  and  children  were  sitting  outside  the  lodge,  and  we  took  our 
seats  on  buffalo  robes  spread  around.  The  dog  was  in  a large  pot  over 
the  fire,  in  the  middle  of  the  lodge,  and  immediately  on  our  arrival  was 
dished  up  in  large  wooden  bowls,  one  of  which  was  handed  to  each. 
The  flesh  appeared  very  glutinous,  with  something  of  the  flavor  and  ap- 
pearance of  mutton.  Feeling  something  move  behind  me,  I looked  round, 
and  found  that  I had  taken  my  seat  among  a litter  of  fat  young  puppies. 
Had  I been  nice  in  such  matters,  the  prejudices  of  civilization  might  have 
interfered  with  my  tranquillity ; but,  fortunately,  I am  not  of  delicate 
nerves,  and  continued  quietly  to  empty  my  platter. 

The  weather  was:cloudy  at  evening,  with  a moderate  south  wind,  aud 
the  thermometer  at  6 o’clock  85°.  I was  disappointed  in  my  hope  of  ob- 


43 


[ 174  ] 

twining  an  observation  of  an  oecultation,  which  took  place  about  midnight. 
The  moon  brought  with  her  heavy  banks  of  clouds,  through  which  she 
scarcely  made  her  appearance  during  the  night. 

The  morning  of  the  18th  was  cloudy  and  calm,  the  thermometer  at  6 
o’clock  at  64°.  About  9,  with  a moderate  wind  from  the  west,  a storm  of 
rain  came  on,  accompanied  by  sharp  thunder  and  lightning,  which  lasted 
about  an  hour.  During  the  day  the  expected  village  arrived,  consisting 
principally  of  old  men,  women,  and  children.  They  had  a considerable 
number  of  horses,  and  large  troops  of  dogs.  Their  lodges  were  pitched 
near  the  fort,  and  our  camp  was  constantly  crowded  with  Indians  of  all 
sizes,  from  morning  until  night ; at  which  time  some  of  the  soldiers  gen- 
erally came  to  drive  them  all  off  to  the  village.  My  tent  was  the  only 
place  which  they  respected.  Here  only  came  the  chiefs  and  men  of  dis- 
tinction, and  generally  one  of  them  remained  to  drive  away  the  women 
and  children.  The  numerous  strange  instruments,  applied  to  still  stranger 
uses,  excited  awe  and  admiration  among  them,  and  those  which  I used 
in  talking  with  the  sun  and  stars  they  looked  upon  with  especial  rever- 
ence, as  mysterious  things  of  “ great  medicine.”  Of  the  three  barometers 
which  I had  brought  with  me  thus  far  successfully,  I found  that  two  were 
out  of  order,  and  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  1 9th  in  repairing  them — 
an  operation  of  no  small  difficulty  in  the  midst  of  the  incessant  interrup- 
tions to  which  I was  subjected.  We  had  the  misfortune  to  break  here  a 
large  thermometer,  graduated  to  show  fifths  of  a degree,  which  I used  to 
ascertain  the  temperature  of  boiling  water,  and  with  which  I had  promised 
myself  some  interesting  experiments  in  the  mountains.  We  had  but  one 
remaining,  on  which  the  graduation  extended  sufficiently  high ; and  this 
was  too  small  for  exact  observations.  During  our  stay  here,  the  men  had 
been  engaged  in  making  numerous  repairs,  arranging  pack  saddles,  and 
otherwise  preparing  for  the  chances  of  a rough  road  and  mountain  travel. 
All  things  of  this  nature  being  ready,  I gathered  them  around  me  in  the 
evening,  and  told  them  that  “ I had  determined  to  proceed  the  next  day. 
They  were  all  well  armed.  I had  engaged  the  services  of  Mr.  Bissonette 
as  interpreter,  and  had  taken,  in  the  circumstances,  every  possible  means 
to  insure  our  safety.  In  the  rumors  we  had  heard,  I believed  there  was 
much  exaggeration,  and  then  they  were  men  accustomed  to  this  kind  of 
life  and  to  the  country ; and  that  these  were  the  dangers  of  every  day 
occurrence,  and  to  be  expected  in  the  ordinary  course  of  their  service. 
They  had  heard  of  the  unsettled  condition  of  the  country  before  leaving 
St.  Louis,  and  therefore  could  not  make  it  a reason  for  breaking  their  en- 
gagements. Still,  I was  unwilling  to  take  with  me,  on  a service  of  some 
certain  danger,  men  on  whom  I could  not  rely ; and  as  I had  understood 
that  there  were  among  them  some  who  were  disposed  to  cowardice,  and 
anxious  to  return,  they  had  but  to  come  forward  at  once,  and  state  their 
desire,  and  they  would  be  discharged  with  the  amount  due  to  them  for 
the  time  they  had  served.”  To  their  honor  be  it  said,  there  was  but  one 
among  them  who  had  the  face  to  come  forward  and  avail  himself  of  the 
permission.  I asked  him  some  few  questions,  in  order  to  expose  him  to 
the  ridicule  of  the  men,  and  let  him  go.  The  day  after  our  departure,  he 
engaged  himself  to  one  of  the  forts,  and  set  off  with  a party  for  the  Upper 
Missouri.  I did  not  think  that  the  situation  of  the  country  justified  me  in 
taking  our  young  companions,  Messrs.  Brant  and  Benton,  along  with  us. 
In  case  of  misfortune,  it  would  have  been  thought,  at  the  least,  an  act  of 


44 


[ 1^4  ] 


great  imprudence ; and  therefore,  though  reluctantly,  I determined  to  leave 
them.  Randolph  had  been  the  life  of  the  camp,  and  the  “ petit  garpon” 
was  much  regretted  by  the  men,  to  whom  his  buoyant  spirits  had  afforded 
great  amusement.  They  all,  however,  agreed  in  the  propriety  of  leaving 
him  at  the  fort,  because,  as  they  said,  he  might  cost  the  lives  of  some  of  the 
men  in  a fight  with  the  Indians. 

July  21. — A portion  of  our  baggage,  with  our  field  notes  and  observa- 
tions, and  several  instrumants,  were  left  at  the  fort.  One  of  the  gentlemen, 
Mr.  Galpin,  took  charge  of  a barometer,  which  he  engaged  to  observe 
during  my  absence;  and  I intrusted  to  Randolph,  by  way  of  occupation, 
the  regular  winding  up  of  two  of  my  chronometers,  which  were  among  the 
instruments  left.  Our  observations  showed  that  the  chronometer  which  I 
retained  for  the  continuation  of  our  voyage  had  preserved  its  rate  in  a most 
satisfactory  manner.  As  deduced  from  it,  the  longitude  of  Fort  Laramie  is 
7h . 01'  21",  and  from  lunar  distance  Ih . 01'  29";  giving  for  the  adopted 
longitude  104°  47'  43".  Comparing  the  barometrical  observations  made 
during  our  stay  here,  with  those  of  Dr.  G.  Engelman  at  St.  Louis,  we  find 
for  the  elevation  of  the  fort  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  4,470  feet.  The 
winter  climate  here  is  remarkably  mild  for  the  latitude ; but  rainy  weather 
is  frequent,  and  the  place  is  celebrated  for  winds,  of  which  the  prevailing 
one  is  west.  An  east  wind  in  summer,  and  a south  wind  in  winter,  are 
said  to  be  always  accompanied  with  rain. 

We  were  ready  to  depart;  the  tents  were  struck,  the  mules  geared  up, 
and  our  horses  saddled,  and  we  walked  up  to  the  fort  to  take  the  stirrup 
cup  with  our  friends  in  an  excellent  home-brewed  preparation.  While 
thus  pleasantly  engaged,  seated  in  one  of  the  little  cool  chambers,  at  the 
door  of  which  a man  had  been  stationed  to  prevent  all  intrusion  from  the 
Indians,  a number  of  chiefs,  several  of  them  powerful  fine-looking  men, 
forced  their  way  into  the  room  in  spite  of  all  opposition.  Handing  me  the 
following  letter,  they  took  their  seats  in  silence  : 

“ Fort  Platte,  Juffiel  1,  1842. 

“ Mr.  Fremont  : Les  ches  s’etant  assembles  presentement  me  disent 
de  vous  avertir  de  ne  point  vous  mettre  en  route,  avant  que  le  parti  de 
jeunes  gens,  qui  est  en  dehors,  soient  de  letour.  De  plus,  ils  me  disent 
qu’ils  sont  tre  certains  qu’ils  feront  feu  a la  premiere  rencontre.  Ils 
doivent  etre  de  retour  dans  sept  a D/uit  jours.  Excusez  si  je  vous  fais  cos 
observations,  mais  il  me  sern^\e  qu’il  est  mon  devoir  de  vous  avertir  du 
danger.  Meme  de  phi^  ies  chefs  sont  les  porteurs  de  ce  billet,  qui  vous 
defendent  de  partir  avant  le  retour  des  guerriers. 

“ Je  suis  votre  obeissant  serviteur, 

“JOSEPH  BISSONETTE, 

“ Par  L.  B.  CHARTRAIN. 

“ Les  noms  de  quelques  chefs. — Le  Chapeau  de  Loutre,  le  Casseur  de 
Fleches,  la  Nuit  Koir,  la  Queue  de  Boeuf.” 

[Translation.] 

“ Fort  Platte,  July  1,  1842. 

“Mr.  Fremont:  The  chiefs,  having  assembled  in  council,  have  just 
told  me  to  warn  you  not  to  set  out  before  the  party  of  young  men  which 


45 


[ 174  ] 

is  now  out  shall  have  returned.  Furthermore,  they  tell  me  that  they  are 
very  sure  they  will  fire  upon  you  as  soon  as  they  meet  you.  They  are 
expected  back  in  seven  or  eight  days.  Excuse  me  for  making  these  ob- 
servations, but  it  seems  my  duty  to  warn  you  of  danger.  Moreover,  the 
chiefs  who  prohibit  your  setting  out  before  the  return  of  the  warriors  are 
the  bearers  of  this  note. 

“ I am  your  obedient  servant, 

“ JOSEPH  BISSONETTE, 

“ By  L.  B.  CHARTRAIN. 

“ Names  of  some  of  the  chiefs. — The  Otter  Hat,  the  Breaker  of  Arrows, 
the  Black  Night,  the  Bull’s  Tail.” 

After  reading  this,  I mentioned  its  purport  to  my  companions  ; and,  see- 
ing that  all  were  fully  possessed  of  its  contents,  one  of  the  Indians  rose 
up,  and,  having  first  shaken  hands  with  me,  spoke  as  follows  : 

“ You  have  come  among  us  at  a bad  time.  Some  of  our  people  have 
been  killed,  and  our  young  men,  who  are  gone  to  the  mountains,  are 
eager  to  avenge  the  blood  of  their  relations,  which  has  been  shed  by  the 
whites.  Our  young  men  are  bad,  and,  if  they  meet  you,  they  will  believe 
that  you  are  carrying  goods  and  ammunition  to  their  enemies,  and  will 
fire  upon  you.  You  have  told  us  that  this  will  make  war.  We  know  that 
our  great  father  has  many  soldiers  and  big  guns,  and  we  are  anxious  to 
have  our  lives.  We  love  the  whites,  and  are  desirous  of  peace.  Think- 
ing of  all  these  things,  we  have  determined  to  keep  you  here  until  our 
warriors  return.  We  are  glad  to  see  you  among  us.  Our  father  is  rich, 
and  we  expected  that  you  would  have  brought  presents  to  us- — horses,  and 
guns,  and  blankets.  But  we  are  glad  to  see  you.  We  look  upon  your 
coming  as  the  light  which  goes  before  the  sun  ; for  you  will  tell  our  great 
father  that  you  have  seen  us,  and  that  we  are  naked  and  poor,  and  have 
nothing  to  eat;  and  he  will  send  us  all  these  things.”  He  was  followed 
by  the  others,  to  the  same  effect. 

The  observations  of  the  savage  appeared  reasonable  ; but  I was  aware 
that  they  had  in  view  only  the  present  object  of  detaining  me,  and  were 
unwilling  I should  go  further  into  the  country.  In  reply,  I asked  them, 
through  the  interpretation  of  Mr.  Boudeau,  to  select  two  or  three  of  their 
number  to  accompany  us  until  we  should  meet  their  people — they  should 
spread  their  robes  in  my  tent  and  eat  at  my  table,  and  on  our  return  I 
would  give  them  presents  in  reward  of  their  services.  They  declined, 
saying  that  there  were  no  young  men  left  in  the  village,  antt  that  they 
were  too  old  to  travel  so  many  days  on  horseback,  and  preferred  now  to 
smoke  their  pipes  in  the  lodge,  and  let  the  warriors  go  on  the  war  path. 
Besides,  they  had  no  power  over  the  young  men,  and  were  afraid  to  inter- 
fere with  them.  In  my  turn  I addressed  them  : “ You  say  that  you  love 
the  whites;  why  have  you  killed  so  many  already  this  spring?  You  say 
that  you  love  the  whites,  and  are  full  of  many  expressions  of  friendship  to 
us  ; but  you  are  not  willing  to  undergo  the  fatigue  of  a few  days’  ride  to 
save  our  lives.  We  do  not  believe  what  you  have  said,  and  will  not  lis- 
ten to  you.  Whatever  a chief  among  us  tells  his  soldiers  to  do,  is  done. 
We  are  the  soldiers  of  the  great  chief,  your  father.  He  has  told  us  to 
come  here  and  see  this  country,  and  ail  the  Indians,  his  children.  Why 


46 


[ 174  ] 

should  we  not  go  ? Before  we  came,  we  heard  that  you  had  killed  his 
people,  and  ceased  to  be  his  children  ; but  we  came  among  you  peaceably, 
holding  out  our  hands.  Now  we  find  that  the  stories  we  heard  are  not 
lies,  and  that  you  are  no  longer  his  friends  and  children.  We  have  thrown 
away  our  bodies,  and  will  not  turn  back.  When  you  told  us  that  your 
young  men  would  kill  us,  you  did  not  know  that  our  hearts  were  strong, 
and  you  did  not  see  the  rifles  which  my  young  men  carry  in  their  hands. 
We  are  few,  and  you  are  many,  and  may  kill  us  all ; but  there  will  be 
mucli  crying  in  your  villages,  for  many  of  y.our  young  men  will  stay  be- 
hind, and  forget  to  return  with  your  warriors  from  the  mountains.  Do 
you  think  that  our  great  chief  will  let  his  soldiers  die,  and  forget  to  cover 
their  graves  ? Before  the  snows  melt  again,  his  warriors  will  sweep  away 
your  villages  as  the  fire  does  the  prairie  in  the  autumn.  See  ! I have 
pulled  down  my  white  houses , and  my  people  are  ready  : when  the  sun  is 
ten  paces  higher,  we  shall  be  on  the  march.  If  you  have  any  thing  to  tell 
us,  you  will  say  it  soon.”  I broke  up  the  conference,  as  I could  do  noth- 
ing with  these  people ; and,  being  resolved  to  proceed,  nothing  was  to  be 
gained  by  delay.  Accompanied  by  our  hospitable  friends,  we  returned  to 
the  camp.  We  had  mounted  our  horses,  and  our  parting  salutations  had 
been  exchanged,  when  one  of  the  chiefs  (the  Bull’s  Tail)  arrived  to  tell 
me  that  they  had  determined  to  send  a young  man  with  us;  and  if  I 
would  point  out  the  place  of  our  evening  camp,  he  should  join  us  there. 
“ The  young  man  is  poor,”  said  he  ; “ he  has  no  horse,  and  expects  you  to 
give  him  one.”  I described  to  him  the  place  where  I intended  to  encamp, 
and,  shaking  hands,  in  a few  minutes  we  were  among  the  hills,  and  this 
last  habitation  of  whites  shut  out  from  our  view. 

The  road  led  over  an  interesting  plateau  between  the  North  fork  of  the 
Platte  on  the  right,  and  Laramie  river  on  the  left.  At  the  distance  of  ten 
miles  from  the  foit,  we  entered  the  sandy  bed  of  a creek,  a kind  of  defile, 
shaded  by  precipitous  rocks,  down  which  we  wound  our  way  for  several 
hundred  yards,  to  a place  where,  on  the  left  bank,  a very  large  spring 
gushes  with  considerable  noise  and  force  out  of  the  limestone  rock.  It  is 
called  “ the  Warm  Spring,”  and  furnishes  to  the  hitherto  dry  bed  of  the 
creek  a considerable  rivulet.  On  the  opposite  side,  a little  below  the 
spring,  is  a lofty  limestone  escarpment,  partially  shaded  by  a grove  of 
large  trees,  whose  green  foliage,  in  contrast  with  the  whiteness  of  the  rock, 
renders  this  a picturesque  locality.  The  rock  is  fossiliferous,  and,  so  far  as 
I was  able  to  determine  the  character  of  the  fossils,  belongs  to  the  carbonif- 
erous limestone  of  the  Missouri  river,  and  is  probably  the  western  limit  of 
that  formation.  Beyond  this  point  I met  with  no  fossils  of  any  descrip- 
tion. 

I was  desirous  to  visit  the  Platte  near  the  point  where  it  leaves  the 
Black  hills,  and  therefore  followed  this  stream,  for  two  or  three  miles,  to 
the  mouth  ; where  I encamped  on  a spot  which  afforded  good  grass  and 
j mile  ( equisetum ) for  our  animals.  Our  tents  having  been  found  too  thin 
to  protect  ourselves  and  the  instruments  from  the  rains,  which  in  this 
elevated  country  are  attended  with  cold  and  unpleasant  weather,  I had 
procured  from  the  Indians  at  Laramie  a tolerably  large  lodge,  about  eigh- 
teen feet  in  diameter,  and  twenty  feet  in  height.  Such  a lodge,  when 
properly  pitched,  is,  from  its  conical  form,  almost  perfectly  secure  against 
the  violent  winds  which  are  frequent  in  this  region,  and,  with  a fire  in  the 
centre,  is  a dry  and  warm  shelter  in  bad  weather.  By  raising  the  lower 


47 


[ 174  ] 

part,  so  as  to  permit  the  breeze  to  pass  freely,  it  is  converted  into  a pleas- 
ant summer  residence,  with  the  extraordinary  advantage  of  being  entirely 
free  from  mosquitoes,  one  of  which  I have  never  seen  in  an  Indian  lodge. 
While  we  were  engaged  very  unskilfully  in  erecting  this,  the  interpreter, 
Mr.  Bissonette,  arrived,  accompanied  by  the  Indian  and  his  wife.  She 
laughed  at  our  awkwardness,  and  offered  her  assistance,  of  which  we  were 
frequently  afterward  obliged  to  avail  ourselves,  before  the  men  acquired 
sufficient  expertness  to  pitch  it  without  difficulty.  From  this  place  we 
had  a fine  view  of  the  gorge  where  the  Platte  issues  from  the  Black  hills, 
changing  its  character  abruptly  from  a mountain  stream  into  a river  of  the 
plains.  Immediately  around  us  the  valley  of  the  stream  was  tolerably 
open  ; and  at  the  distance  of  a few  miles,  wher.e  the  river  had  cut  its  way 
through  the  hills,  was  the  narrow  cleft,  on  one  side  of  which  a lofty  preci- 
pice of  bright  red  rock  rose  vertically  above  the  low  hills  which  lay  be- 
tween us. 

July  22. — In  the  morning,  while  breakfast  was  being  prepared,  I visited 
this  place  with  my  favorite  man,  Basil  Lajeunesse.  Entering  so  far  as 
there  was  footing  for  the  mules,  we  dismounted,  and,  tying  our  animals, 
continued  our  way  on  foot.  Like  the  whole  country,  the  scenery  of  the 
river  had  undergone  an  entire  change,  and  was  in  this  place  the  most 
beautiful  I have  ever  seen.  The  breadth  of  the  stream,  generally  near 
that  of  its  valley,  was  from  two  to  three  hundred  feet,  with  a swift  cur- 
rent, occasionally  broken  by  rapids,  and  the  water  perfectly  clear.  On 
either  side  rose  the  red  precipices,  vertical,  and  sometimes  overhanging, 
two  and  four  hundred  feet  in  height,  crowned  with  green  summits,  on 
which  were  scattered  a few  pines.  At  the  foot  of  the  rocks  was  the  usual 
detritus,  formed  of  masses  fallen  from  above.  Among  the  pines  that  grew 
here,  and  on  the  occasional  banks,  were  the  cherry,  ( cerasus  virginiana,) 
currants,  and  grains  de  boeuf  ( shepherdia  argentea.)  Viewed  in  the  sun- 
shine of  a pleasant  morning,  the  scenery  was  of  a most  striking  and  ro- 
mantic beauty,  which  arose  from  the  picturesque  disposition  of  the  objects, 
and  the  vivid  contrast  of  colors.  I thought  with  much  pleasure  of  our 
approaching  descent  in  the  canoe  through  such  interesting  places ; and,  in 
the  expectation  of  being  able  at  that  time  to  give  to  them  a full  examina- 
tion, did  not  now  dwell  so  much  as  might  have  been  desirable  upon  the 
geological  formations  along  the  line  of  the  river,  where  they  are  developed 
with  great  clearness.  The  upper  portion  of  the  red  strata  consists  of  very 
compact  clay,  in  which  are  occasionally  seen  imbedded  large  pebbles. 
Below  was  a stratum  of  compact  red  sandstone,  changing  a little  above 
the  river  into  a very  hard  siliceous  limestone.  There  is  a small  but  hand- 
some open  prairie  immediately  below  this  place,  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
river,  which  would  be  a good  locality  for  a military  post.  There  are  some 
open  groves  of  cottonwood  on  the  Platte.  The  small  stream  which  comes 
in  at  this  place  is  well  timbered  with  pine,  and  good  building  rock  is 
abundant. 

If  it  is  in  contemplation  to  keep  open  the  communications  with  Oregon 
territory,  a show  of  military  force  in  this  country  is  absolutely  necessary; 
and  a combination  of  advantages  renders  the  neighborhood  of  Fort  Lara- 
mie the  most  suitable  place,  on  the  line  of  the  Platte,  for  the  establishment 
of  a military  post.  It  is  connected  with  the  mouth  of  the  Platte  and  the 
Upper  Missouri  by  excellent  roads,  which  are  in  frequent  use,  and  would 
not  in  any  way  interfere  with  the  range  of  the  buffalo,  on  which  the 


48 


[ 174  ] 

neighboring  Indians  mainly  depend  for  support.  It  would  render  any 
posts  on  the  Lower  Platte  unnecessary;  the  ordinary  communication  be- 
tween it  and  the  Missouri  being  sufficient  to  control  the  intermediate  In- 
dians. It  would  operate  effectually  to  prevent  any  such  coalitions  as  are 
now  formed  among  the  Gros  Ventres,  Sioux,  Cheyennes,  and  other  Indians, 
and  would  keep  the  Oregon  road  through  the  valley  of  the  Sweet  Water 
and  the  South  Pass  of  the  mountains  constantly  open.  A glance  at  the 
map  which  accompanies  this  report  will  show  that  it  lies  at  the  foot  of 
a broken  and  mountainous  region,  along  which,  by  the  establishment  of 
small  posts  in  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  on  the  South  fork  of 
the  Platte,  and  Bent’s  fort,  on  the  Arkansas,  a line  of  communication  would 
be  formed,  by  good  wagon  roads,  with  our  southern  military  posts,  which 
would  entirely  command  thfe  mountain  passes,  hold  some  of  the  most 
troublesome  tribes  in  check,  and  protect  and  facilitate  our  intercourse  with 
the  neighboring  Spanish  settlements.  The  valleys  of  the  rivers  on  which 
they  would  be  situated  are  fertile ; the  country,  which  supports  immense 
herds  of  buffalo,  is  admirably  adapted  to  grazing ; and  herds  of  cattle  might 
be  maintained  by  the  posts,  or  obtained  from  the  Spanish  country,  which 
aiready  supplies  a portion  of  their  provisions  to  the  trading  posts  mentioned 
above. 

Just  as  we  were  leaving  the  camp  this  morning,  our  Indian  came  up, 
and  stated  his  intention  of  not  proceeding  any  further  until  he  had  seen 
the  horse  which  I intended  to  give  him.  I felt  strongly  tempted  to  drive 
him  out  of  the  camp ; but  his  presence  appeared  to  give  confidence  to  my 
men,  and  the  interpreter  thought  it  absolutely  necessary.  I was  there- 
fore obliged  to  do  what  he  requested,  and  pointed  out  the  animal,  with 
which  he  seemed  satisfied,  and  we  continued  our  journey.  I had  ima- 
gined that  Mr.  Bissonette’s  long  residence  had  made  him  acquainted 
with  the  country,  and,  according  to  his  advice,  proceeded  directly  forward, 
without  attempting  to  regain  the  usual  road.  He  afterward  informed  me 
that  he  had  rarely  ever  lost  sight  of  the  fort ; but  the  effect  of  the  mistake 
was  to  involve  us  for  a day  or  two  among  the  hills,  where,  although  we 
lost  no  time,  we  encountered  an  exceedingly  rough  road. 

To  the  south,  along  our  line  of  march  to-day,  the  main  chain  of  the 
Black  or  Laramie  hills  rises  precipitously.  Time  did  not  permit  me  to 
visit  them;  but,  from  comparative  information,  the  ridge  is  composed  of 
the  coarse  sandstone  or  conglomerate  hereafter  described.  It  appears  to 
enter  the  region  of  clouds,  which  are  arrested  in  their  course,  and  lie  in 
masses  along  the  summits.  An  inverted  cone  of  black  cloud  (cumulus) 
rested  during  all  the  forenoon  on  the  lofty  peak  of  Laramie  mountain, 
which  I estimated  to  be  about  two  thousand  feet  above  the  fort,  or  six 
thousand  five  hundred  above  the  sea.  We  halted  to  noon  on  the  Fourche 
A mire,  so  called  from  being  timbered  principally  with  the  Hard  amlre, 
(a  species  of  poplar,)  with  which  the  valley  of  the  little  stream  is  tolerably 
well  wooded,  and  which,  with  large  expansive  summits,  grows  to  the 
height  of  sixty  or  seventy  feet. 

The  bed  of  the  creek  is  sand  and  gravel,  the  water  dispersed  over  the 
broad  bed  in  several  shallow  streams.  We  found  here,  on  the  right  bank, 
in  the  shade  of  the  trees,  a fine  spring  of  very  cold  water.  It  will  be  re- 
marked that  I do  not  mention,  in  this  portion  of  the  journey,  the  tempera- 
ture of  the  air,  sand,  springs,  &c, — an  omission  which  will  be  explained  in 


49  [ 174  ] 

the  course  of  the  narrative.  In  my  search  for  plants,  I was  well  rewarded 
at  this  place. 

With  the  change  in  the  geological  formation  on  leaving  Fort  Laramie, 
the  whole  face  of  the  country  has  entirely  altered  its  appearance.  East- 
ward of  that  meridian,  the  principal  objects  which  strike  the  eye  of  a travel- 
ler are  the  absence  of  timber,  and  the  immense  expanse  of  prairie,  covered, 
with  the  verdure  of  rich  grasses,  and  highly  adapted  for  pasturage.  Wher- 
ever they  are  not  disturbed  by  the  vicinity  of  man,  large  herds  of  buffalo 
give  animation  to  this  country.  Westward  of  Laramie  river,  the  region  is 
sandy,  and  apparently  sterile ; and  the  place  pf  the  grass  is  usurped  by  the 
artemisia  and  other  odoriferous  plants,  to  whose  growth  the  sandy  soil 
and  dry  air  of  this  elevated  region  seem  highly  favorable. 

One  of  the  prominent  characteristics  in  the  face  of  the  country  is  the  ex- 
traordinary abundance  of  the  artemisias.  They  grow  every  where — on 
the  hills,  and  over  the  river  bottoms,  in  tough,  twisted,  wiry  clumps  ; and, 
wherever  the  beaten  track  was  left,  they  rendered  the  progress  of  the  carts 
rough  and  slow.-  As  the  country  increased  in  elevation  on  our  advance 
to  the  west,  they  increased  in  size ; and  the  whole  air  is  strongly  impreg- 
nated and  saturated  with  the  odor  of  camphor  and  spirits  of  turpentine 
which  belongs  to  this  plant.  This  climate  has  been  found  very  favorable 
to  the  restoration  of  health,  particularly  in  cases  of  consumption  ; and  pos- 
sibly the  respiration  of  air  so  highly  impregnated  by  aromatic  plants  may 
have  some  influence. 

Our  dried  meat  had  given  out,  and  we  began  to  be  in  want  of  food;  but 
one  of  the  hunters  killed  an  antelope  this  evening,  which  afforded  some 
relief,  although  it  did  not  go  far  among  so  many  hungry  men.  At  8 o’clock 
at  night,  after  a march  of  twenty-seven  miles,  we  reached  our  proposed  en- 
campment on  the  Fer-h-Cheval , or  Horse-shoe  creek.  Here  we  found 
good  grass,  with  a great  quantity  of prele,  which  furnished  good  food  for 
our  tired  animals.  This  creek  is  well  timbered,  principally  with  Hard 
amtre , and,  with  the  exception  of  Deer  creek,  which  we  had  not  yet  reach- 
ed, is  the  largest  affluent  of  the  right  bank  between  Laramie  and  the 
mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water. 

July  23. — The  present  year  had  been  one  of  unparalleled  drought,  and 
throughout  the  country  the  water  had  been  almost  dried  up.  By  availing 
themselves  of  the  annual  rise,  the  traders  had  invariably  succeeded  in 
carrying  their  furs  to  the  Missouri ; but  this  season,  as  has  already  been 
mentioned,  on  both  forks  of  the  Platte  they  had  entirely  failed.  The 
greater  number  of  the  springs,  and  many  of  the  streams,  which  made- 
halting  places  for  the  voyageurs,  had  been  dried  up.  Every  where  the  soil 
looked  parched  and  burnt ; the  scanty  yellow  grass  crisped  under  the  foot, 
and  even  the  hardiest  plants  were  destroyed  by  want  of  moisture.  I think 
it  necessary  to  mention  this  fact,  because  to  the  rapid  evaporation  in  such 
an  elevated  region,  nearly  five  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  almost  wholly 
unprotected  by  timber,  should  be  attributed  much  of  the  sterile  appearance 
of  the  country,  in  the  destruction  of  vegetation,  and  the  numerous  saline 
efflorescences  which  covered  the  ground.  Such  I afterward  found  to  be 
the  case. 

I was  informed  that  the  roving  villages  of  Indians  and  travellers  had 
never  met  with  difficulty  in  finding  an  abundance  of  grass  for  their  horses  ; 
and  now  it  was  after  great  search  that  we  were  able  to  find  a scanty  patch 
of  grass,  sufficient  to  keep  them  from  sinking  ; and  in  the  course  of  a day 
4 


50 


[ 174  ] 

or  two  they  began  to  suffer  very  much.  We  found  none  to-day  at  noon ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  our  search  on  the  Platte,  came  to  a grove  of  cotton- 
wood, where  some  Indian  village  had  recently  encamped.  Boughs  of  the 
cottonwood  yet  green  covered  the  ground,  which  the  Indians  had  cut 
down  to  feed  their  horses  upon.  It  is  only  in  the  winter  that  recourse  is 
had  to  this  means  of  sustaining  them  ; and  their  resort  to  it  at  this  time  was 
a striking  evidence  of  the  state  of  the  country.  We  followed  their  example, 
and  turned  our  horses  into  a grove  of  young  poplars.  This  began  to  pre- 
sent itself  as  a very  serious  evil,  for  on  our  animals  depended  altogether 
the  further  prosecution  of  our  journey. 

Shortly  after  we  had  left  this  place,  the  scouts  came  galloping  in  with 
the  alarm  of  Indians.  We  turned  ir*  immediately  toward  the  river,  which 
here  had  a steep  high  bank,  where  we  formed  with  the  carts  a very  close 
barricade,  resting  on  the  river,  within  which  the  animals  were  strongly 
hohbled  and  picketed.  The  guns  were  discharged  and  reloaded,  and  men 
thrown  forward,  under  cover  of  the  bank,  in  the  direction  by  which  the 
Indians  were  expected.  Our  interpreter,  who,  with  the  Indian,  had  gone 
to  meet  them,  came  in,  in  about  ten  minutes,  accompanied  by  two  Sioux. 
They  looked  sulky,  and  we  could  obtain  from  them  only  some  confused 
information.  We  learned  that  they  belonged  to  the  party  which  had  been 
on  the  trail  of  the  emigrants,  whom  they  had  overtaken  at  Rock  Independ- 
ence, on  the  Sweet  Water.  Here  the  party  had  disagreed,  and  came  nigh 
fighting  among  themselves.  One  portion  were  desirous  of  attacking  the 
whites,  but  the  others  were  opposed  to  it ; and  finally  they  had  broken  up 
into  small  bands,  and  dispersed  over  the  country.  The  greater  portion  of 
them  had  gone  over  into  the  territory  of  the  Crows,  and  intended  to  return 
by  way  of  the  Wind  river  valley,  in  the  hope  of  being  able  to  fail  upon 
some  small  parties  of  Crow  Indians.  The  remainder  were  returning  down 
the  Platte,  in  scattered  parties  of  ten  and  twenty ; and  those  whom  we  had 
encountered  belonged  to  those  who  had  advocated  an  attack  on  the  emi- 
grants. Several  of  the  men  suggested  shooting  them  on  the  spot ; but  I 
promptly  discountenanced  any  such  proceeding.  They  further  informed  / 
me  that  buffalo  were  very  scarce,  and  little  or  no  grass  to  be  found.  There 
had  been  no  rain,  and  innumerable  quantities  of  grasshoppers  had  destroy- 
ed the  grass.  This  insect  had  been  so  numerous  since  leaving  Fort  Lara- 
mie, that  the  ground  seemed  alive  with  them  ; and  in  walking,  a little 
moving  cloud  preceded  our  footsteps.  This  was  bad  news. ' No  grass,  no 
buffalo — food  for  neither  horse  nor  man.  I gave  them  some  plugs  of  to- 
bacco, and  they  went  off,  apparently  well  satisfied  to  be  clear  of  us  ; for 
my  men  Sid  not  look  upon  them  very  lovingly,  and  they  glanced  suspi- 
ciously at  our  warlike  preparations,  and  the  little  ring  of  rifles  which  sur- 
rounded lhem.  They  were  evidently  in  a bad  humor,  and  shot  one  of 
their  horses  when  they  had  left  us  a short  distance. 

We  continued  our  march,  and,  after  a journey  of  about  twenty-one  miles, 
encamped  on  the  Platte.  During  the  day,  I had  occasionally  remarked 
among  the  hills  the  psoralea  esculenta,  the  bread  root  of  the  Indians.  The 
Sioux  use  this  root  very  extensively,  and  I have  frequently  met  with  it 
among  them,  cut  into  thin  slices  and  dried.  In  the  course  of  the  even- 
ing we  were  visited  by  six  Indians,  who  told  us  that  a larger  party  was  en- 
camped a few  miles  above.  Astronomical  observations  placed  us  in  longi- 
tude 104°  59'  59",  and  latitude  42°  39’  25". 

We  made  the  next  day  twenty-two  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  right 


51 


[ 174  J 

bank  of  the  Platte,  where  a handsome  meadow  afforded  tolerably  good 
grass.  There  were  the  remains  of  an  old  fort  here,  thrown  up  in  some 
sudden  emergency,  and  on  the  opposite  side  was  a picturesque  bluff  of 
ferruginous  sandstone.  There  was  a handsome  grove  a little  above,  and 
scattered  groups  of  trees  bordered  the  river.  Buffalo  made  their  appear- 
ance this  afternoon,  and  the  hunters  came  in,  shortly  after  we  had  encamp- 
ed, with  three  fine  cows.  The  night  was  fine,  and  observations  gave  for 
the  latitude  pf  the  camp,  42°  47'  40". 

July  25. — We  made  but  thirteen  miles  this  day,  and  encamped  about 
noon  in  a pleasant  grove  on  the  right  bank.  Low  scaffolds  were  erected, 
upon  which  the  meat  was  laid,  cut  up  into  thin  strips,  and  small  fires 
kindled  below.  Our  object  was  to  profit  by  the  vicinity  of  the  buffalo,  to 
lay  in  a stock  of  provisions  for  ten  or  fifteen  days.  In  the  course  of  the 
afternoon  the  hunters  brought  in  five  or  six  cows,  and  all  hands  were 
kept  busily  employed  in  preparing  the  meat,  to  the  drying  of  which  the 
guard  attended  during  the  night.  Our  people  had  recovered  their  gayety, 
and  the  busy  figures  around  the  blazing  fires  gave  a picturesque  air  to  the 
camp.  A very  serious  accident  occurred  this  morning,  in  the  breaking  of 
one  of  the  barometers.  These  had  been  the  object  of  my  constant  solici- 
tude, and,  as  I had  intended  them  principally  for  mountain  service,  I had 
used  them  as  seldom  as  possible ; taking  them  always  down  at  night,  and 
on  the  occurrence  of  storms,  in  order  to  lessen  the  chances  of  being  broken. 
I was  reduced  to  one,  a standard  barometer  of  Troughton’s  construction. 
This  I determined  to  preserve,  if  possible.  The  latitude  is  42°  51'  35", 
and  by  a mean  of  the  results  from  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  the 
adopted  longitude  of  this  camp  is  105°  50'  45". 

July  26. — Early  this  morning  we  were  again  in  motion.  We  had  a 
stock  of  provisions  for  fifteen  days  carefully  stored  away  in  the  carts,  and 
this  I resolved  should  only  be  encroached  upon  when  our  rifles  should  fail 
to  procure  us  present  support.  I determined  to  reach  the  mountains,  if  it 
were  in  any  way  possible.  In  the  mean  time,  buffalo  were  plenty.  In  six 
miles  from  our  encampment,  (which,  by  way  of  distinction,  we  shall  call 
Dried  Meat  camp,)  we  crossed  a handsome  stream,  called  La  Foarche 
Bois6e.  It  is  well  timbered,  and,  among  the  flowers  in  bloom  on  its  banks, 
I remarked  several  asters. 

Five  miles  further,  we  made  our  noon  halt,  on  the  banks  of  the  Platte, 
in  the  shade  of  some  cottonwoods.  There  were  here,  as  generally  now 
along  the  river,  thickets  of  hippophase , the  grains  de  bceuf  of  the  country. 
They  were  of  two  kinds — one  bearing  a red  berry,  (the  shepherdia  argen - 
tia  of  Nuttall ;)  the  other  a yellow  berry,  of  which  the  Tartars  are  said  to 
make  a kind  of  rob. 

By  a meridian  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  place  was  42°  50'  08". 
It  was  my  daily  practice  to  take  observations  of  the  sun’s  meridian  altitude; 
and  why  they  arc  not  given,  will  appear  in  the  sequel.  Eight  miles  further 
we  reached  the  mouth  of  Deer  creek,  where  we  encamped.  Here  was  an 
abundance  of  rich  grass,  and  our  animals  were  compensated  for  past  priva- 
tions. This  stream  was  at  this  time  twenty  feet  broad,  and  well  timbered 
with  cottonwood  of  an  uncommon  size.  It  is  the  largest  tributary  of  the 
Platte,  between  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water  and  the  Laramie.  Our  as- 
tronomical observations  gave  for  the  mouth  of  the  stream  a longitude  of 
106°  08’  24",  and  latitude  42°  52'  24". 

July  27. — Nothing  worthy  of  mention  occurred  on  this  day  ; we  trav- 

f 


52 


[ 174  ] 


elled  later  than  usual,  having  spent  some  time  in  searching  for  grass, 
crossing  and  recrossing  the  river  before  we  could  find  a sufficient  quantity 
for  our  animals.  Toward  dusk,  we  encamped  among  some  artemisia 
hushes,  two  and  three  feet  in  height,  where  some  scattered  patches  of  | 
short  tough  grass  afforded  a scanty  supply.  In  crossing,  we  had  occasion 
to  observe  that  the  river  was  frequently  too  deep  to  be  forded,  though  we 
always  succeeded  in  finding  a place  where  the  water  did  not  enter  the 
carts.  The  stream  continued  very  clear,  with  two  or  three*  hundred  feet 
breadth  of  water,  and  the  sandy  bed  and  banks  were  frequently  covered 
with  large  round  pebbles.  We  had  travelled  this  day  twenty-seven  miles. 
The  main  chain  of  the  Black  hills  was'  here  only  about  seven  miles  to 
the  south,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  rising  abruptly  to  the  height  of  I 
eight  and  twelve  hundred  feet.  Patches  of  green  grass  in  the  ravines  on 
the  steep  sides  marked  the  presence  of  springs,  and  the  summits  were  clad 
with  pines. 

July  28. — In  two  miles  from  our  encampment,  we  reached  the  place 
where  the  regular  road  crosses  the  Platte.  There  was  two  hundred  feet 
breadth  of  water  at  this  time  in  the  bed,  which  has  a variable  width  of  ' 
eight  to  fifteen  hundred  feet.  The  channels  were  generally  three  feet  deep, 
and  there  were  large  angular  rocks  on  the  bottom,  which  made  the  ford  in 
some  places  a little  difficult.  Even  at  its  low  stages,  this  river  cannot  be 
crossed  at  random,  and  this  has  always  been  used  as  the  best  ford.  The 
low  stage  of  the  waters  the  present  year  had  made  it  fordable  in  almost  any 
part  of  its  course,  where  access  could  be  had  to  its  bed. 

For  the  satisfaction  of  travellers,  I will  endeavor  to  give  some  descrip- 
tion of  the  nature  of  the  road  from  Laramie  to  this  point.  The  nature  of 
the  soil  may  be  inferred  from  its  geological  formation.  The  limestone  at 
the  eastern  limit  of  this  section  is  succeeded  by  limestone  without  fossils, 
a great  variety  of  sandstone,  consisting  principally  of  red  sandstone  and 
fine  conglomerates.  The  red  sandstone  is  argillaceous,  with  compact  white 
gypsum  or  alabaster,  very  beautiful.  The  other  sandstones  are  gray,  yel- 
low, and  ferruginous,  sometimes  very  coarse.  The  apparent  sterility  of 
the  country  must  therefore  be  sought  for  in  other  causes  than  the  nature  of 
the  soil.  The  face  of  the  country  cannot  with  propriety  be  called  hilly.  It 
is  a succession  of  long  ridges,  made  by  the  numerous  streams  which  come 
down  from  the  neighboring  mountain  range.  The  ridges  have  an  undu- 
lating surface,  with  some  such  appearance  as  the  ocean  presents  in  an  or- 
dinary breeze. 

The  road  which  is  now  generally  followed  through  this  region  is  there-  . 
fore  a very  good  one,  without  any  difficult  ascents  to  overcome.  The 
principal  obstructions  are  near  the  river,  where  the  transient  waters  of 
heavy  rains  have  made  deep  ravines  with  steep  banks,  which  renders  fre- 
quent circuits  necessary.  It  will  be  remembered  that  wagons  pass  this 
road  only  once  or  twice  a year,  which  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  break 
down  the  stubborn  roots  of  the  innumerable  artemisia  bushes.  A partial 
absence  of  these  is  often  the*  only  indication  of  the  track  ; and  the  rough- 
ness produced  by  their  roots  in  many  places  gives  the  road  the  character 
of  one  newly  opened  in  a wooded  country.  This  is  usually  considered  the 
worst  part  of  the  road  east  of  the  mountains ; and,  as  it  passes  through  an 
open  prairie  region,  may  be  much  improved,  so  as  to  avoid  the  greater  part  | 
of  the  inequalities  it  now  presents.  % 

From  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas  to  the  Green^iver  valley,  west  of  the  | 


53  [ 174  ] 

Rocky  mountains,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a mountain  road  on  the  line  of 
communication. 

We  continued  our  way,  and  four  miles  beyond  the  ford  Indians  were 
discovered  again  ; and  I halted  while  a party  were  sent  forward  to  ascertain 
who  they  were.  In  a short  time  they  returned,  accompanied  by  a number 
of  Indians  of  the  Oglallah  band  of  Sioux.  From  them  we  received  some 
interesting  information.  They  had  formed  part  of  the  great  village,  which 
they  informed  us  had  broken  up,  and  was  on  its  way  home.  The  greater 
part  of  the  village,  including  the  Arapahoes,  Cheyennes,  and  Oglallahs, 
had  crossed  the  Platte  eight  or  ten  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet 
Water,  and  were  now  behind  the  mountains  to  the  south  of  us,  intending 
to  regain  the  Platte  by  way  of  Deer  creek.  They  had  taken  this  unusual 
route  in  search  of  grass  and  game.  They  gave  us  a very  discouraging 
picture  of  the  country.  The  great  drought,  and  the  plague  of  grasshop- 
pers, had  swept  it  so  that  scarce  a blade  of  grass  was  to  be  seen,  and 
there  was  not  a buffalo  to  be  found  in  the  whole  region.  Their  people, 
they  further  said,  had  been  nearly  starved  to  death,  and  we  would  find 
their  road  marked  by  lodges  which  they  had  thrown  away  in  order  to 
move  more  rapidly,  and  by  the  carcasses  of  the  horses  which  they  had  eaten, 
' or  which  had  perished  by  starvation.  Such  was  the  prospect  before  us. 

When  he  had  finished  the  interpretation  of  these  things,  Mr.  Bissonette 
immediately  rode  up  to  me,  and  urgently  advised  that  I should  entirely 
abandon  the  further  prosecution  of  my  exploration.  “ Le  meilleure  avis 
queje  pourrais  voas  donner  c’est  de  virer  de  suite”  “ The  best  advice  I 
can  give  you,  is  to  turn  back  at  once.”  It  was  his  own  intention  to  re- 
turn, as  we  had  now  reached  the  point  to  which  he  had  engaged  to  attend 
me.  In  reply,  I called  up  my  rrien,  and  communicated  to  them  fully  the 
information  I had  just  received.  I then  expressed  to  them  my  fixed  de- 
termination to  proceed  to  the  end  of  the  enterprise  on  which  I had  been 
sent ; but  as  the  situation  of  the  country  gave  me  some  reason  to  appre- 
hend that  it  might  be  attended  with  an  unfortunate  result  to  some  of  us,. 
I would  leave  it  optional  with  them  to  continue  with  me  or  to  return. 

Among  them  were  some  five  or  six  who  I knew  would  remain.  We 
had  still  ten  days’  provisions;  and,  should  no  game  be  found,  when  this 
stock  was  expended,  we  had  our  horses  and  mules,  which  we  could  eat 
when  other  means  of  subsistence  failed.  But  not  a man  flinched  from 
the  undertaking.  “ We’ll  eat  the  mules,”  said  Basil  Lajeunesse  ; and 
thereupon  we  shook  hands  with  our  interpreter  and  his  Indians,  and 
parted.  With  them  I sent  back  one  of  my  men,  Dumes,  whom  the  effects 
of  an  old  wound  in  the  leg  rendered  incapable  of  continuing  the  journey 
on  foot,  and  his  horse  seemed  on  the  point  of  giving  out.  Having  re~ 
solved  to  disencumber  ourselves  immediately  of  every  thing  not  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  our  future  operations,  I turned  directly  in  toward  the 
river,  and  encamped  on  the  left  bank,  a little  above  the  place  where  our 
council  had  been  held,  and  where  a thick  grove  of  willows  offered  a suit- 
able spot  for  the  object  I had  in  view. 

The  carts  having  been  discharged,  the  covers  and  wheels  were  taken, 
off,  and,  with  the  frames,  carried  into  some  low  places  among  the  willows, 
and  concealed  in  the  dense  foliage  in  such  a manner  that  the  glitter  of  the 
iron  work  might  not  attract  the  observation  of  some  straggling  Indian. 
In  the  sand,  which  had  been  blown  up  into  waves  among  the  willows,  a 
large  hole  was  then  dug,  ten  feet  square,  and  six  deep.  In  the  mean  time, 


54 


l *74  ] 

all  our  effects  had  been  spread  out  upon  the  ground,  and  whatever  was 
designed  to  be  carried  along  with  us  separated  and  laid  aside,  and  the  re- 
maining part  carried  to  the  hole  and  carefully  covered  up.  As  much  as 
possible,  all  traces  of  our  proceedings  were  obliterated,  and  it  wanted  but 
a rain  to  render  our  cache  safe  beyond  discovery.  All  the  men  were  now 
set  at  work  to  arrange  the  pack  saddles  and  make  up  the  packs. 

The  day  was  very  warm  and  calm,  and  the  sky  entirely  clear,  except 
where,  as  usual  along  the  summits  of  the  mountainous  ridge  opposite,  the 
clouds  had  congregated  in  masses.  Our  lodge  had  been  planted,  and,  on 
account  of  the  heat,  the  ground  pins  had  been  taken  out,  and  the  lower 
part  slightly  raised.  Near  to  it  was  standing  the  barometer,  which  swung 
in  a tripod  frame;  and  within  the  lodge,  where  a small  fire  had  been  built, 
Mr.  Preuss  was  occupied  in  observing  the  temperature  of  boiling  water. 
At  this  instant,  and  without  any  warning  until  it  was  within  fifty  yards, 
a violent  gust  of  wind  dashed  down  the  lodge,  burying  under  it  Mr.  Preuss 
and  about  a dozen  men,  who  had  attempted  to  keep  it  from  being  carried 
away.  I succeeded  in  saving  the  barometer,  which  the  lodge  was  carry- 
ing off  with  itself,  but  the  thermometer  was  broken.  We  had  no  others 
of  a high  graduation,  none  of  those  which  remained  going  higher  than 
135°  Fahrenheit.  Our  astronomical  observations  gave  to  this  place,  which 
we  named  Cache  camp,  a longitude  of  106°  38'  26",  latitude  42°  50'  53". 

July  29. — All  our  arrangements  having  been  completed,  we  left  the  en- 
campment at  7 o’clock  this  morning.  In  this  vicinity  the  ordinary  road 
leaves  the  Platte,  and  crosses  over  to  the  Sweet  Water  river,  which  it 
strikes  near  Rock  Independence.  Instead  of  following  this  road,  I had 
determined  to  keep  the  immediate  valley  of  the  Piatte  so  far  as  the  mouth 
of  the  Sweet  Water,  in  the  expectation  of  finding  better  grass.  To  this  I 
was  further  prompted  by  the  nature  of  my  instructions.  To  Mr.  Carson 
was  assigned  the  office  of  guide,  as  we  had  now  reached  a part  of  the 
country  with  which,  or  a great  part  of  which,  long  residence  had  made 
him  familiar.  In  a few  miles  we  reached  the  Red  Buttes,  a famous  land- 
mark in  this  country,  whose  geological  composition  is  red  sandstone,  lime- 
stone, and  calcareous  sandstone  and  pudding  stone. 

The  river  here  cuts  its  way  through  a ridge  ; on  the  eastern  side  of  it 
are  the  lofty  escarpments  of  red  argillaceous  sandstone,  which  are  called 
the  Red  Buttes.  In  this  passage  the  stream  is  not  much  compressed  or 
pent  up,  there  being  a bank  of  considerable  though  variable  breadth  on 
either  side.  Immediately  on  entering,  we  discovered  a band  of  buffalo. 
The  hunters  failed  to  kill  any  of  them;  the  leading  hunter  being  thrown 
into  a ravine,  which  occasioned  some  delay,  and  in  the  mean  time  the 
herd  clambered  up  the  steep  face  of  the  ridge.  It  is  sometimes  wonderful 
to  see  these  apparently  clumsy  animals  make  their  way  up  and  down  the 
most  rugged  and  broken  precipices.  We  halted  to  noon  before  we  had 
cleared  this  passage,  at  a spot  twelve  miles  distant  from  Cache  camp,  where 
we  found  an  abundance  of  grass.  So  far,  the  account  of  the  Indians  was 
found  to  be  false.  On  the  banks  were  willow  and  cherry  trees.  The 
cherries  were  not  yet  ripe,  but  in  the  thickets  were  numerous  fresh  tracks 
of  the  grizzly  bear,  which  are  very  fond  of  this  fruit.  The  soil  here  is 
red,  the  composition  being  derived  from  the  red  sandstone.  About  seven 
miles  brought  us  through  the  ridge,  in  which  the  course  of  the  river  is  north 
and  south.  Here  the  valley  opens  out  broadly,  and  high  walls  of  the  red 
formation  present  themselves  among  the  hills  to  the  east.  We  crossed 


HOT  SPRTNG  GATE 


55 


[ 174  ] 

here  a pretty  little  creek,  an  affluent  of  the  right  bank.  It  is  well  timber- 
ed with  cottonwood  in  this  vicinity,  and  the  absinthe  has  lost  its  shrub- 
like character,  and  becomes  small  trees  six  and  eight  feet  in  height,  and 
so#metimes  eight  inches  in  diameter.  Two  or  three  miles  above  this  creek 
we  made  our  encampment,  having  travelled  to-day  twenty-five  miles. 
Our  animals  fared  well  here,  as  there  is  an  abundance  of  grass.  The  river 
bed  is  made  up  of  pebbles,  and  in  the  bank,  at  the  level  of  the  water,  is  a 
conglomerate  of  coarse  pebbles  about  the  size  of  ostrich  eggs,  and  which 
I remarked  in  the  banks  of  the  Laramie  fork.  It  is  overlaid  by  a soil  of 
mixed  clay  and  sand,  six  feet  thick.  By  astronomical  observations,  our 
position  is  in  longitude  106°  54'  32",  and  latitude  42°  38'. 

July  30. — After  travelling  about  twelve  miles  this  morning,  we  reached 
a place  where  the  Indian  village  had  crossed  the  river.  Here  were  the 
poles  of  discarded  lodges  and  skeletons  of  horses  lying  about.  Mr.  Carson, 
who  had  never  been  higher  up  than  this  point  on  the  river,  which  has  the 
character  of  being  exceedingly  rugged,  and  walled  in  by  precipices  above, 
thought  it  advisable  to  camp  near  this  place,  where  we  were  certain  of  ob- 
taining grass,  and  to-morrow  make  our  crossing  among  the  rugged  hills  to 
the  Sweet  Water  river.  Accordingly  we  turned  back  and  descended  the 
river  to  an  island  near  by,  which  was  about  twenty  acres  in  size,  covered 
with  a luxuriant  growth  of  grass.  The  formation  here  I found  highly 
interesting.  Immediately  at  this  island  the  river  is  again  shut  up  in  the 
rugged  hills,  which  come  down  to  it  from  the  main  ridge  in  a succession 
of  spurs  three  or  four  hundred  feet  high,  and  alternated  with  green  level 
prairillons  or  meadows,  bordered  on  the  river  banks  with  thickets  of  wil- 
low, and  having  many  plants  to  interest  the  traveller.  The  island  lies  be- 
tween two  of  these  ridges,  three  or  four  hundred  yards  apart,  of  which 
that  on  the  right  bank  is  composed  entirely  of  red  argillaceous  sandstone, 
with  thin  layers  of  fibrous  gypsum.  On  the  left  bank,  the  ridge  is  com- 
posed entirely  of  siliceous  pudding  stone,  the  pebbles  in  Jhe  numerous 
strata  increasing  in  size  from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  where  they  are  as 
large  as  a man’s  head.  So  far  as  I was  able  to  determine,  these  strata  in- 
cline to  the  northeast,  with  a dip  of  about  15°.  This  pudding  stone,  or 
conglomerate  formation,  I was  enabled  to  trace  through  an  extended  range 
of  country,  from  a few  miles  east  of  the  meridian  of  Fort  Laramie  to  where 
I found  it  superposed  on  the  granite  of  the  Ttocky  mountains,  in  longitude 
109°  00'.  From  its  appearance,  the  main  chain  of  the  Laramie  mountain 
is  composed  of  this  rock ; and  in  a number  of  places  I found  isolated  hills, 
which  served  to  mark  a former  level,  which  had  been  probably  swept 
away. 

These  conglomerates  are  very  friable,  and  easily  decomposed ; and  I 
am  inclined  to  think  this  formation  is  the  source  from  which  was  derived 
the  great  deposite  of  sand  and  gravel  which  forms  the  surface  rock  of  the 
prairie  country  west  of  the  Mississippi. 

Crossing  the  ridge  of  red  sandstone,  and  traversing  the  little  prairie  which 
lies  to  the  southward  of  it,  we  made  in  the  afternoon  an  excursion  to  a place 
which  we  have  called  the  Hot  Spring  Gate.  This  place  has  much  the  ap- 
pearance of  a gate,  by  which  the  Platte  passes  through  a ridge  composed 
of  a white  and  calcareous  sandstone.  The  length'  of  the  passage  is  about 
four  hundred  yards,  with  a smooth  green  prairie  on  either  side.  Through 
this  place,  the  stream  flows  with  a quiet  current,  unbroken  by  any  rapid, 
and  is  about  seventy  yards  wide  between  the  walls,  which  rise  perpen- 


56 


[ 174  ] 

dicularly  from  the  water.  To  that  on  the  right  bank,  which  is  the  lowpr, 
the  barometer  gave  a height  of  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet.  Annexed 
is  a view  of  this  place,  which  will  be  more  particularly  described  here- 
after, as  we  passed  through  it  on  our  return. 

We  saw  here  numerous  herds  of  mountain  sheep,  and  frequently  heard 
the  volley  of  rattling  stones  which  accompanied  their  rapid  descent  down 
the  steep  hills.  This  was  the  first  place  at  which  we  had  killed  any  of 
these  animals  ; and,  in  consequence  of  this  circumstance,  and  of  the 
abundance  of  these  sheep  or  goats,  (for  they  are  called  by  each  name,)  we 
gave  to  our  encampment  the  name  of  Goat  Island.  Their  flesh  is  much 
esteemed  by  the  hunters,  and  has  very  much  the  flavor  of  the  Allegany 
mountain  sheep.  I have  frequently  seen  the  horns  of  this  animal  three 
feet  long  and  seventeen  inches  in  circumference  at  the  base,  weighing 
eleven  pounds.  But  two  or  three  of  these  were  killed  by  our  party  at 
this  place,  and  of  these  the  horns  were  small.  The  use  of  these  horns 
seems  to  be  to  protect  the  animal’s  head  in  pitching  down  precipices  to 
avoid  pursuing  wolves — their  only  safety  being  in  places  where  they  can- 
not be  followed.  The  bones  are  very  strong  and  solid,  the  marrow  occu- 
pying but  a very  small  portion  of  the  bone  in  the  leg,  about  the  thickness 
of  a rye  straw.  The  hair  is  short,  resembling  the  winter  color  of  our  com- 
mon deer,  which  it  nearly  approaches  in  size  and  appearance.  Except  in 
the  horns,  it  has  no  resemblance  whatever  to  the  goat.  The  longitude  of 
this  place,  resulting  from  chronometer  and  lunar  distances,  and  an  occulta- 
tion  of  £ Arietis,  is  107°  13'  29",  and  the  latitude  42°  33'  27".  One  of  our 
horses,  which  had  given  out,  we  left  to  receive  strength  on  the  island,  intend- 
ing to  take  her, 'perhaps,  on  our  return. 

July  31. — This  morning  we  left  the  course  of  the  Platte,  to  cross  over 
to  the  Sweet  Water.  Our  way,  for  a few*miles,  lay  up  the  sandy  bed  of 
a dry  creek,  in  which  I found  several  interesting  plants.  Leaving  this,  we 
wound  om  wa^  to  the  summit  of  the  hills,  of  which  the  peaks  are  here 
eight  hunared  feet  above  the  Platte,  bare  and  rocky.  A long  and  gradual 
slope  led  from  these  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water,  which  we  reached  in  fifteen 
miles  from  Goat  Island.  I made  an  early  encampment  here,  in  order  to 
give  the  hunters  an  opportunity  to  procure  a supply  from  several  bands  of 
buffalo,  which  made  their  appearance  in  the  valley  near  by.  The  stream 
here  is  about  sixty  feet  wide,  and  at  this  time  twelve  to  eighteen  inches 
deep,  with  a very  moderate  current. 

The  adjoining  prairies  are  sandy,  but  the  immediate  river  bottom  is  a 
good  soil,  which  afforded  an  abundance  of  soft  green  grass  to  our  horses, 
and  where  I found  a variety  of  interesting  plants,  which  made  their  ap- 
pearance for  the  first  time.  A rain  to-night  made  it  unpleasantly  cold ; 
and  there  was  no  tree  here,  to  enable  us  to  pitch  our  single  tent,  the  poles 
of  which  had  been  le.ft  at  Cache  camp . We  had,  therefore,  no  shelter 
except  what  was  to  be  found  under  cover  of  the  absinthe  bushes,  which 
grew  in  many  thick  patches,  one  or  tw?  and  sometimes  three  feet 
high. 

August  1. — The  hunters  went  ahead  this  morning,  as  buffalo  appeared 
tolerably  abundant,  and  I was  desirous  to  secure  a small  stock  of  pro- 
visions; and  we  moved  about  seven  miles  up  the  valley,  ana  encamped 
one  mile  below  Rock  Independence.  This  is  an  isolated  granite  rock, 
about  six  hundred  and  fifty  yards  long,  and  forty  in  height.  Except  in 
a depression  of  the  summit,  where  a little  soil  supports  a scanty  growth 


devil’s  gate 


57 


[ 174  ] 

of  shrubs,  with  a solitary  dwarf  pine,  it  is  entirely  bare.  Every  where 
within  six  or  eight  feet  of  the  ground,  where  the  surface  is  sufficiently 
smooth,  and  in  some  places  sixty  or  eighty  feet  above,  the  rock  is  inscribed 
with  the  names  of  travellers.  Many  a name  famous  in  the  history  of  this 
country,  and  some  well  known  to  science,  are  to  be  found  mixed  among 
those  of  the  traders  and  of  travellers  for  pleasure  and  curiosity,  and  of  mis- 
sionaries among  the  savages.  Some  of  these  have  been  washed  away  by 
the  rain,  but  the  greater  number  are  still  very  legible.  The  position  of 
this  rock  is  in  longitude  107°  56',  latitude  42°  29'  36".  We  remained  at 
our  camp  of  August  1st  until  noon  of  the  next  day,  occupied  in  drying 
meat.  By  observation,  the  longitude  of  the  place  is  107°  25'  23",  latitude 
42°  29'  56". 

August  2. — Five  miles  above  Rock  Independence  we  came  to  a place 
called  the  Devil’s  Gate,  where  the  Sweet  Water  cuts  through  the  point  of 
a granite  ridge.  The  length  of  the  passage  is  about  three  hundred  yards, 
and  the  width  thirty-five  yards.  The  walls  of  rock  are  vertical,  and  about 
four  hundred  feet  in  height;  and  the  stream  in  the  gate  is  almost  entirely 
choked  up  by  masses  which  have  fallen  from  above.  In  the  wall,  on  the 
right  bank,  is  a dike  of  trap  rock,  cutting  through  a fine-grained  gray  gran- 
ite. Near  the  point  of  this  ridge  crop  out  some  strata  of  the  valley  forma- 
tion, consisting  of  a grayish  micaceous  sandstone,  and  fine-grained  con- 
glomerate, and  marl.  We  encamped  eight  miles  above  the  Devil’s  Gate, 
of  which  a view  is  given*in  the  annexed  plate.  There  was  no  timber  of 
any  kind  on  the  river,  but  good  fires  were  made  of  drift  wood,  aided  by  the 
bois  de  vache. 

We  had  to-night  no  shelter  from  the  rain,  which  commenced  with 
squalls  of  wind  about  sunset.  The  country  here  is  exceedingly  pic- 
turesque. On  either  side  of  the  valley;  which  is  four  or  five  miles  broad, 
the  mountains  rise  to  the  height  of  twelve  and  'fifteen  hundred  or  two 
thousand  feet.  On  the  south  side,  the  range  appears  to  be  .timbered,  and 
to-night  is  luminous  with  fires — probably  the  work  of  the  Indians,  who 
have  just  passed  through  the  valley.  On  the  north,  broken  and  granite 
masses  rise  abruptly  from  the  green  sward  of  the  river,  terminating  in  a 
line  of  broken  summits.  Except  in  the  crevices  of  the  rock,  and  here 
and  there  on  a ledge  or  bench  of  the  mountain,  where  a few  hardy  pines 
have  clustered  together,  these  are  perfectly  bare  and  destitute  of  vege- 
tation. 

Among  these  masses,  where  there  are  sometimes  isolated  hills  and 
ridges,  green  valleys  open  in  upon  the  river,  which  sweeps  the  base  of 
these  mountains  for  thirty-six  miles.  Every  where  its  deep  verdure  and 
profusion  of  beautiful  flowers  is  in  pleasing  contrast  with  the  sterile 
grandeur  of  the  rock  and  the  barrenness  of  the  sandy  plain,  which,  from 
the  right  bank  of  the  river,  sweeps  up  to  the  mountain  range  that  forms 
its  southern  boundary.  The  great  evaporation  on  the  sandy  soil  of  this 
elevated  plain,  and  the  saline  efflorescences  which  whiten  the  ground, 
and  shine  like  lakes  reflecting  the  sun,  make  a soil  wholly  unfit  fox  culti- 
vation. 

August  3. — We  were  early  on  the  road  the  next  morning,  travelling 
along  the  upland  part  of  the  valley,  which  is  overgrown  with  artemisia. 
Scattered  about  on  the  plain  are  occasional  small  isolated  hills.  One  of 
these  which  I examined,  about  fifty  feet  high,  consisted  of  white  clay  and 
marl,  in  nearly  horizontal  strata.  Several  bands  of  buffalo  made  their  ap- 


53 


[ 174  ] 

pearance  to-day.  with  herds  of  antelope  ; and  a grizzly  bear — the  only  one 
we  encountered  during  the  journey— was  seen  scrambling  up  among  the 
rocks.  As  we  passed  over  a slight  rise  near  the  river,  we  caught  the  first 
view  of  the  Wind  river  mountains,  appearing,  at  this  distance  of  about 
seventy  miles,  to  be  a low  and  dark  mountainous  ridge.  The  view  dissipat- 
ed in  a moment  the  pictures  which  had  been  created  in  our  minds,  by  many 
descriptions  of  travellers,  who  have  compared  these  mountains  to  the  Alps 
in  Switzerland,  and  speak  of  the  glittering  peaks  which  rise  in  icy  majesty 
amidst  the  eternal  glaciers  nine  or  ten  thousand  feet  into  the  region  of  eter- 
nal snows.  The  nakedness  of  the  river  was  relieved  by  groves  of  willows, 
where  we  encamped  at  night,  after  a march  of  twenty-six  miles  ; and  nu- 
merous bright-colored  flowers  had  made  the  river  bottom  look  gay  as  a 
garden.  We  found  here  a horse,  which  had  been  abandoned  by  the  In- 
dians, because  his  hoofs  had  been  so  much  worn  that  he  was  unable  to 
travel;  and,  during  the  night,  a dog  came  into  the  camp. 

August  4. — Our  camp  was  at  the  foot  of  the  granite  mountains,  which 
we  climbed  this  morning  to  take  some  barometrical  heights;  and  here 
among  the  rocks  was  seen  the  first  magpie.  On  our  return,  we  saw  one 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Platte  river.  We  left  here  one  of  our  horses,  which 
was  unable  to  proceed  farther.  A few  miles  from  the  encampment  we  left 
the  river,  which  makes  a bend  to  the  south,  and,  traversing  an  undulating 
country,  consisting  of  a grayish  micaceous  sandstone  and  fine-grained  con- 
glomerates, struck  it  again,  and  encamped,  after  a journey  of  twenty-five 
miles.  Astronomical  observations  placed  us  in  latitude  42°  32'  30",  and 
longitude  108°  30'  13". 

August  5. — The  morning  was  dark,  with  a driving  rain,  and  disagree- 
ably cold.  We  continued  our  route  as  usual ; but  the  weather  became  so 
bad,  that  we  were  glad  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  shelter  offered  by  a small 
island,  about  ten  miles  above  our  last  encampment,  which  was  covered 
with  a dense  growth  of  willows.  There  was  fine  grass  for  our  animals, 
and  the  timber  afforded  us  comfortable  protection  and  good  fires.  In  the 
afternoon,  the  sun  broke  through  the  clouds  for  a short  time,  and  the  ba- 
rometer at  5,  p.  m.,  was  at  23.713,  the  thermometer  60°,  with  the  wind 
strong  from  the  northwest.  We  availed  ourselves  of  the  fine  weather  to 
make  excursions  in  the  neighborhood.  The  river,  at  this  place,  is  border- 
ed by  hills  of  the  valley  formation.  They  are  of  moderate  height ; one  of 
the  highest  peaks  on  the  right  bank  being,  according  to  the  barometer,  one 
hundred  and  eighty  feet  above  the  river.  On  the  left  bank  they  are  higher. 
They  consist  of  a fine  white  clayey  sandstone,  a white  calcareous  sandstone, 
and  coarse  sandstone  or  pudding  stone. 

August  6. — It  continued  steadily  raining  all  the  day  ; but,  notwithstand- 
ing, we  left  our  encampment  in  the  afternoon.  Our  animals  had  been 
much  refreshed  by  their  repose,  and  an  abundance  of  rich,  soft  grass,  which 
had  been  much  improved  by  the  rains.  In  about  three  miles,  we  reached 
the  entrance  of  a kanyon , where  the  Sweet  Water  issues  upon  the  more 
open  valley  we  had  passed  ovet.  Immediately  at  the  entrance,  and  super- 
imposed directly  upon  the  granite,  are  strata  of  compact  calcareous  sand- 
stone and  chert,  alternating  with  fine  white  and  reddish  white,  and  fine 
gray  and  red  sandstones.  These  strata  dip  to  the  eastward  at  an  angle  of 
about  18°,  and  form  the  western  limit  of  the  sandstone  and  limestone  forma- 
tions on  the  line  of  our  route.  Here  we  entered  among  the  primitive 
rocks.  The  usual  road  passes  to  the  right  of  this  place;  but  we  wound, 


59 


[ 174  ] 

or  rather  scrambled,  our  way  up  the  narrow  valley  for  several  hours. 
Wildness  and  disorder  were  the  character  of  this  scenery.  The  river  had 
been  swollen  by  the  late  rains,  and  came  rushing  through  with  an  impetuous 
current,  three  or  four  feet  deep,  and  generally  twenty  yards  broad.  The 
valley  was  sometimes  the  breadth  of  the  stream,  and  sometimes  opened 
into  little  green  meadows,  sixty  yards  wide,  with  open  groves  of  aspen. 
The  stream  was  bordered  throughout  with  aspen, beech,  and  willow;  and 
tall  pines  grew  on  the  sides  and  summits  of  the  crags.  On  both  sides,  the 
granite  rocks  rose  precipitously  to  the  height  of  three  hundred  and  five 
hundred  feet,  terminating  in  jagged  and  broken  pointed  peaks  ; and  frag- 
ments of  fallen  rock  lay  piled  up  at  the  foot  of  the  precipices.  Gneiss, 
mica  slate,  and  a white  granite,  were  among  the  varieties  I noticed.  Here 
were  many  old  traces  of  beaver  on  the  stream  ; remnants  of  dams,  near 
which  were  lying  trees,  which  they  had  cut  down,  one  and  two  feet  in 
diameter.  The  hills  entirely  shut  up  the  river-  at  the  end  of  about  five 
miles,  and  we  turned  up  a ravine  that  led  to  a high  prairie,  which  seemed  to 
be  the  general  level  of  the  country.  Hence,  to  the  summit  of  the  ridge, 
there  is  a regular  and  very  gradual  rise.  Blocks  of  granite  were  piled  up 
at  the  heads  of  the  ravines,  and  small  bare  knolls  of  mica  slate  and  milky 
quartz  protruded  at  frequent  intervals  on  the  prairie,  which  was  whitened 
in  occasional  spots  with  srji^J^alt  jajses,  where  the  water  had  evaporated, 
and  left  the  bed  covered  with  a shining  incrustation  of  salt.  The  evening 
was  very  cold,  a northwest  wind  driving  a fine  rain  in  our  faces  ; and  at 
nightfall  we  descended  to  a little  stream,  on  which  we  encamped,  about 
two  miles  from  the  Sweet  Water.  Here  had  recently  been  a very  large  ( 
camp  of  Snake  and  Crow  Indians ; and  some  large  poles  lying  about  af- 
forded the  means  of  pitching  a tent,  and  making  other  places  of  shelter. 
Our  fires  to-night  were  made  principally  of  the  dry  branches  of  the  arte- 
misia,  which  covered  the  slopes.  It  burns  quickly,  with  a clear  oily  flame, 
and  makes  a hot  fire.  The  hills  here  are  composed  of  hard,  compact  mica 
slate,  with  veins  of  quartz. 

•August  7. — We  left  our  encampment  with  the  rising  sun.  As  we  rose 
from  the  bed  of  the  creek,  the  snow  line  of  the  mountains  stretched  grandly 
before  us,  the  white  peaks  glittering  in  the  sun.  They  had  been  hidden 
in  the  dark  weather  of  the  last  few  days,  and  it  had  been  snowing  on  them, 
wThile  it  rained  in  the  plains.  We  crossed  a ridge,  and  again  struck  the 
Sweet  Water — here  a beautiful,  swift  stream,  with  a more  open  valley, 
timbered  with  beech  and  cottonwood.  It  now  began  to  lose  itself  in  the 
many  small  forks  which  make  its  head ; and  we  continued  up  the  main 
stream  until  near  noon,  when  we  left  it  a few  miles,  to  make  our  noon  halt 
on  a small  creek  among  the  hills,  from  which  the  stream  issues  by  a small 
opening.  Within  was  a beautiful  grassy  spot,  covered  with  an  open  grove 
of  large  beech  trees,  among  which  I found  several  plants  that  I had  not 
previously  seen. 

The  afternoon  was  cloudy,  with  squalls  of  rain ; but  the  weather  be- 
came fine  at  sunset,  when  we  again  encamped  on  the  Sweet  Water,  with- 
in a few  miles  of  the  South  Pass.  The  country  over  which  we  have 
passed  to-day  consists  principally  of  the  compact  mica  slate,  which  crops 
out  on  all  the  ridges,  making  .the  uplands  very  rocky  and  slaty.  In  the 
escarpments  which  border  the  creeks,  it  is  seen  alternating  with  a light- 
colored  granite,  at  an  inclination  of  45° ; the  beds  varying  in  thickness 
from  two  or  three  feet  to  six  or  eight  hundred.  At  a distance,  the  granite 


60 


[ 1?4  ] 

y frequently  has  the  appearance  of  irregular  lumps  of  clay,  hardened  by  ex- 
posure. A variety  of  asters  may  now  be  numbered  amoug  the  character- 
istic plants,  and  the  artemisia  continues  in  full  glory ; but  cacti  have  be- 
come rare,  and  mosses  begin  to  dispute  the  hills  with  them.  The  evening 
was  damp  and  unpleasant;  the  thermometer,  at  10  o’clock,  being  at  36°, 
and  the  grass  wet  with  a heavy  dew.  Our  astronomical  observations  placed 
this  encamptment  in  longitude  109°  21'  32",  and  latitude  42°  27'  15". 

Early  in  the  morning  we  resumed  our  journey,  the  weather  still  cloudy, 
with  occasional  rain.  Our  general  course  was  west,  as  I had  determined 
to  cross  the  dividing  ridge  by  a bridle  path  among  the  broken  country 
more  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  and  return  by  the  wagon 
road,  two  and  a half  miles  to  the  south  of  the  point  where  the  trail  crosses. 

* A bout  six  miles  from  our  encampment  brought  us  to  the  summit.  The 
ascent  had  been  so  gradual,  that,  with  all  the  intimate  knowledge  pos- 
sessed by  Carson,  who  had.  made  this  country  his  home  for  seventeen 
years,  we  were  obliged  to  watch  very  closely  to  find  the  place  at  which 
we  had  reached  the  culminating  point.  This  was  between  two  low  hills, 
rising  on  either  hand  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  When  I looked  back  at  them, 
from  the  foot  of  the  immediate  slope  on  the  western  plain,  their  summits 
appeared  to  be  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  above.  From  the  im- 
pression on  my  mind  at  this  time,  and  subsequently  on  our  return,  I should 
compare  the  elevation  which  we  surmounted  immediately  at  the  Pass,  to 
the  ascent  of  the  Capitol  hill  from  the  avenue,  at  Washington.  It  is  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  fix  positively  the  breadth  of  this  pass.  From  the  broken 
ground  where  it  commences,  at  the  foot  of  the  Wind  river  chain,  the  view 
to  the  southeast  is  over  a champaign  country,  broken,  at  the  distance  of 
nineteen  miles,  by  the  Table  rock ; which,  with  the  other  isolated  hills 
in  its  vicinity,  seems  to  stand  on  a comparative  plain.  This  I judged  to 
be  its  termination,  the  ridge  recovering  its  rugged  character  with  the  Table 
rock.  It  will  be  seen  that  it  in  no  manner  resembles  the  places  to  which 
the  term  is  commonly  applied — nothing  of  the  gorge-like  character  and 
winding  ascents  of  the  Allegheny  passes  in  America:  nothing  of  the  Great 
St.  Bernard  and  Simplon  passes  in  Europe.  Approaching  it  from  the 
mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  a sandy  plain,  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles 
long,  conducts,  by  a gradual  and  regular  ascent,  to  the  summit,  about 
seven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea ; and  the  traveller,  without  being  re- 
minded of  any  change  by  toilsome  ascents,  suddenly  finds  himself  on  the 
waters  which  flow  to  the  Pacific  ocean.  By  the  route  we  had  travelled, 
the  distance  from  Fort  Laramie  is  three  hundred  and  twenty  miles,  or  nine 
hundred  and  fifty  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas. 

Continuing  our  march,  we  reached,  in  eight  miles  from  the  Pass,  the 
Little  Sandy,  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Colorado,  or  Green  river  of  the 
Gulf  of  California.  The  weather  had  grown  fine  during  the  morning,  and 
we  remained  here  the  rest  of  the  day,  to  dry  our  baggage  and  take  some 
astronomical  observations.  The  stream  was  about  forty  feet  wide,  and 
two  or  three  deep,  with  clear  water  and  a full  swift  current,  over  a sandy 
bed.  It  was  timbered  with  a growth  of  low  bushy  and  dense  willows, 
among  which  were  little  verdant  spots,  which  gave  our  animals  fine  grass, 
and  where  I found  a number  of  interesting  plants.  Among  the  neighbor- 
ing hills  I noticed  fragments  of  granite  containing  magnetic  iron.  Longi- 
tude of  the  camp  was  109°  37'  59",  and  latitude  42°  27’  34". 

August  9. — We  made  our  noon  halt  to-day  on  Big  Sandy,  another 


61 


C 174  ] 

tributary  of  Green  river.  The  face  of  the  country  traversed  was  of  a brown 
sand  of  granite  materials,  the  detritus  of  the  neighboring  mountains. 
Strata  of  the  milky  quartz  cropped  out,  and  blocks  of  granite  were  scat- 
tered about,  containing  magnetic  iron.  On  Sandy  creek  the  formation  was 
of  parti-colored  sand,  exhibited  in  escarpments  fifty  to  eighty  feet  high.  In 
the  afternoon  we  had  a severe  storm  of  hail,  and  encamped  at  sunset  on 
the  first  New  Fork.  Within  the  space  of  a few  miles,  the  Wind  moun- 
tains supply  a number  of  tributaries  to  Green  river,  which  are  all  called  the 
New  Forks.  Near  our  camp  were  two  remarkable  isolated  hills,  one  of 
them  sufficiently  large  to  merit  the  name  of  mountain.  They  are  called 
the  Two  Buttes,  and  will  serve  to  identify  the  place  of  our  encampment,' 
which  the  observations  of  the  evening  placed  in  longitude  109°  58'  li", 
and  latitude  42°  42'  46".  On  the  right  bank  of  the  stream,  opposite  to  the 
large  hill,  the  strata  which  are  displayed  consist  of  decomposing  granite, 
which  supplies  the  brown  sand  of  which  the  face  of  the  country  is  com- 
posed to  a considerable  depth. 

•August  10. — The  air  at  sunrise  is  clear  and  pure,  and  the  morning  ex- 
tremely cold,  but  beautiful.  A lofty  snow  peak  of  the  mountain  is  glitter- 
ing in  the  first  rays  of  the  sun,  which  has  not  yet  reached  us.  The  long 
mountain  wall>to  the  east,  rising  two  thousand  feet  abruptly  from  the 
plain,  behind  which  we  see  the  peaks,  is  still  dark,  and  cuts  clear  against 
the  glowing  sky.  A fog,  just  risen  from  the  river,  lies  along  the  base  of 
the  mountain.  A little  before  sunrise,  the  thermometer  was  at  35°,  and  at 
sunrise  33°.  Water  froze  last  night,  and  fires  are  very  comfortable.  The 
scenery  becomes  hourly  more  interesting  and  grand,  and  the  view  here  is 
truly  magnificent;  but,  indeed,  it  needs  something  to  repay  the  long  prai- 
rie journey  of  a thousand  miles.  The  sun  has  just  shot  above  the  wall, 
and  makes  a magical  change.  The  whole  valley  is  glowing  and  bright, 
and  all  the  mountain  peaks  are  gleaming  like  silver.  Though  these  snow 
mountains  are  not  the  Alps,  they  have  their  own  character  of  grandeur 
and  magnificence,  and  will  doubtless  find  pens  and  pencils  to  do  them 
justice.  In  the  scene  before  us,  we  feel  how  much  wood  improves  a view. 
The  pines  on  the  mountain  seemed  to  give  it  much  additional  beauty.  I 
was  agreeably  disappointed  in  the  character  of  the  streams  on  this  side  of 
the  ridge.  Instead  of  the  creeks,  which  description  had  led  me  to  expect, 

I find  bold,  broad  streams,  with  three  or  four  feet  water,  and  a rapid  cur- 
rent. The  fork  on  which  we  are  encamped  is  upwards  of  a hundred  feet 
♦ wide,  timbered  with  groves  or  thickets  of  the  low  willow.  We  were  now 
approaching  the  loftiest  part  of  the  Wind  river  chain ; and  I left  the  val- 
ley a few  miles  from  our  encampment,  intending  to  penetrate  the  moun- 
tains as  far  as  possible  with  the  whole  party.  We  were  soon  involved  in 
very  broken  ground,  among  long  ridges  covered  with  fragments  of  granite 
Winding  our  way  up  a long  ravine,  we  came  unexpectedly  in  view  of  a 
most  beautiful  lake,  set  like  a gem  in  the  mountains.  The  sheet  of  water 
lay  transversely  across  the  direction  we  had  been  pursuing ; and,  descend- 
ing the  steep,  rocky  ridge,  where  it  was  necessary  to  lead  our  horses,  we 
followed  its  banks  to  the  southern  extremity.  Here  a view  of  the  utmost 
magnificence  and  grandeur  burst  upon  our  eyes.  With  nothing  between 
us  and  their  feet  to  lessen  the  effect  of  the  whole  height,  a grand  bed  of 
snow-capped  mountains  rose  before  us,  pile  upon  pile,  glowing  in  the 
bright  light  of  an  August  day.  Immediately  below  them  lay  the  lake, 
between  two  ridges,  covered  with  dark  pines,  which  swept  down  from 


[ 174  ] 62 

the  main  chain  to  the  spot  where  we  stood.  Here,  where  the  lake  glittered 
in  the  open  sunlight,  its  banks  of  yellow  sand  and  the  light  foliage  of  aspen 
groves  contrasted  well  with  the  gloomy  pines.  “Never  before,”  said 
Mr.  Preuss,  “in  this  country  or  in  Europe,  have  I seen  such  magnificent, 
grand  rocks.”  I was  so  much  pleased  with  the  beauty  of  the  place,  that 
I determined  to  make  the  main  camp  here,  where  our  animals  would  find 
good  pasturage,  and  explore  the  mountains  with  a small  party  of  men. 
Proceeding  a little  further,  we  came  suddenly  upon  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  ' 
where  it  found  its  way  through  a narrow  passage  between  low  hills.  Dark 
pines,  which  overhung  the  stream,  and  masses  of  rock,  where  the  water 
foamed  along,  gave  it  much  romantic  beauty.  Where  we  crossed,  which 
was  immediately  at  the  outlet,  it  is  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and 
so  deep,  that  with  difficulty  we  were  able  to  ford  it.  Its  bed  was  an  ac- 
cumulation of  rocks,  boulders,  and  broad  slabs,  and  large  angular  frag- 
ments, among  which  the  animals  fell  repeatedly. 

The  current  was  very  swift,  and  the  water  cold,  and  of  a crystal  purity. 
In  crossing  this  stream,  I met  with  a great  misfortune  in  having  my  ba- 
rometer broken.  It  was  the  only  one.  A great  part  of  the  interest  of  the 
journey  for  me  was  in  the  exploration  of  these  mountains,  of  which  so 
much  had  been  said  that  was  doubtful  and  contradictory;  and  now  their 
snowy  peaks  rose  majestically  before  me,  and  the  only  means  of  giving 
them  authentically  to  science,  the  object  of  my  anxious  solicitude  by 
night  and  day,  was  destroyed.  We  had  brought  this  barometer  in  safety 
a thousand  miles,  and  broke  it  almost  among  the  snow  of  the  mountains. 
The  loss  was  felt  by  the  whole  camp— all  had  seen  my  anxiety,  and  aided 
me  in  preserving  it.  The  height  of  these  mountains,  considered  by  the 
hunters  and  traders  the  highest  in  the  whole  range,  had  been  a theme  of 
constant  discussion  among  them  ; and  all  had  looked  forward  with  pleas- 
ure to  the  moment  when  the  instrument,  which  they  believed  to  be  true  j 
as  the  sun,  should  stand  upon  the  summits,  and  decide  their  disputes,  i 
Their  grief  was  only  inferior  to  my  own. 

This  lake  is  about  three  miles  long,  and  of  very  irregular  width,  and. 
apparently  great  depth,  and  is  the  head  water  of  the  third  New  Fork,  a 
tributary  to  Green  river,  the  Colorado  of  the  west.  On  the  map  and  in  the 
narrative,  I have  called  it  Mountain  lake.  I encamped  on  the  north  side, 
about  three  hundred  and  fifty  yards  from  the  outlet.  This  was  the  most 
western  point  at  which  I obtained  astronomical  observations,  by  which 
this  place,  called  Bernier’s  encampment,  is  made  in  110°  08'  03"  west  lon-# 
gitude  from  Greenwich,  and  latitude  43°  49'  49".  The  mountain  peaks, 
as  laid  down,  were  fixed  by  bearings  from  this  and  other  astronomical 
poinis.  We  had  no  other  compass  than  the  small  ones  used  in  sketching 
the  country;  but  from  an  azimuth,  in  which  one  of  them  was  used,  the 
variation  of  the  compass  is  18°  east.  The  correction  made  in  our  field 
work  by  the  astronomical  observations  indicates  that  this  is  a very  correct 
observation. 

As  soon  as  the  camp  was  formed,  I set  about  endeavoring  to  repair  my 
barometer.  As  I have  already  said,  this  was  a standard  cistern  barometer, 
of  Troughton’s  construction.  The  glass  cistern  had  been  broken  about 
midway ; but  as  the  instrument  had  been  kept  in  a proper  position,  no  air 
had  found  its  way  into  the  tube, -the  end  of  which  had  always  remained 
covered.  I had  with  me  a number  of  vials  of  tolerably  thick  glass,  some 
of  which  were  of  the  same  diameter  as  the  cistern,  and  I spent  the  day  in 


63 


[ 174  ] 

slowly  working  on  these,  endeavoring  to  cut  them  of  the  requisite  length ; 
but,  as  my  instrument  was  a very  rough  file,  I invariably  broke  them.  A 
groove  was  cut  in  one  of  the  trees,  where  £he  barometer  was  placed  during 
the  night,  to  be  out  of  the  way  of  any  possible  danger,  and  in  the  morning 
I commenced  again.  Among  the  powder  horns  in  the  camp,  I found  one 
which  was  very  transparent,  so  that  its  contents  could  be  almost  as  plainly 
seen  as  through  glass.  This  I boiled  and  stretched  on  a piece  of  wood  to 
the  requisite  diameter,  and  scraped  it  very  thin,  in  order  to  increase  to  the 
utmost  its  transparency.  I then  secured  it  firmly  in  its  place  on  the  instru- 
ment, with  strong  glue  made  from  a buffalo,  and  filled  it  with  mercury, 
properly  heated.  A piece  of  skin,  which  had  covered  one  of  the  vials, 
furnished  a good  pocket,twhich  was  well  secured  with  strong  thread  and 
glue,  and  then  the  brass  cover  was  screwed  to  its  place.  The  instrument 
was  left  some  time  to  dry  ; and  when  I reversed  it,  a few  hours  after,  I had 
the  satisfaction  to  find  it  in  perfect  order ; its  indications  being  about  the 
same  as  on  the  other  side  of  the  lake  before  it  had  been  broken.  Our  suc- 
cess in  this  little  incident  diffused  pleasure  throughout  the  camp ; and  we 
immediately  set  about  our  preparations  for  ascending  the  mountains. 

As  will  be  seen  on  reference  to  a map,  on  this  short  mountain  chain 
are  the  head  waters  of  four  great  rivers  of  the  continent  ; namely,  the  Col- 
orado, Columbia,  Missouri,  and  Platte  rivers.  It  had  been  my  design,  af- 
ter having  ascended  the  mountains,  to  continue  our  route  on  the  western 
side  of  the  range,  and  crossing  through  a pass  at  the  northwestern  end  of 
the  chain,  about  thirty  miles  from  our  present  camp,  return  along  the 
eastern  slope,  across  the  heads  of  the  Yellowstone  river,  and  join  on  the 
line  to  our  station  of  August  7,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge.  In 
this  way,  I should  be  enabled  to  include  the  whole  chain,  and  its  nume- 
rous waters,  in  my  survey ; but  various  considerations  induced  me,  very 
reluctantly,  to  abandon  this  plan. 

I was  desirous  to  keep  strictly  within  the  scope  of  my  instructions  ; and  it 
would  have  required  ten  or  fifteen  additional  days  for  the  accomplishment 
of  this  object ; our  animals  had  become  very  much  worn  out  with  the  length 
of  the  journey;  game  was  very  scarce;  and,  though  it  does  not  appear  in 
the  course  of  the  narative,  (as  I have  avoided  dwelling  upon  trifling  inci- 
dents not  connected  with  the  objects  of  the  expedition,)  the  spirits  of  the 
men  had  been  much  exhausted  by  the  hardships  and  privations  to  which 
they  had  been  subjected.  Our  provisions  had  wellnigh  all  disappeared. 
Bread  had  been  long  out  of  the  question  ; and  of  all  our  stock,  we  had  re- 
maining two  or  three  pounds  of  coffee,  and  a small  quantity  of  maccaroni, 
which  had  been  husbanded  with  great  care  for  the  mountain  expedition 
we  were  about  to  undertake.  Our  daily  meal  consisted  of  dry  buffalo 
meat,  cooked  in  tallow  ; and,  as  we  had  not  dried  this  with  Indian  skill, 
part  of  it  tvas  spoiled ; and  what  remained  of  good,  was  as  hard  as  wood, 
having  much  the  taste  and  appearance  of  so  many  pieces  of  bark.  Even 
of  this,  our  stock  was  rapidly  diminishing  in  a camp  which  was  capable 
of  consuming  two  buffaloes  in  every  twenty-four  hours.  These  animals 
had  entirely  disappeared;  and  it  was  not  probable  that  we  should  fall  in 
with  them  again  until  we  returned  to  the  Sweet  Watfir. 

Our  arrangements  for  the  ascent  were  rapidly  completed.  We  were  in 
a hostile  country,  which  rendered  the  greatest  vigilance  and  circumspec- 
tion necessary.  The  pass  at  the  north  end  of  the  mountain  was  generally 
infested  by  Blackfeet ; and  immediately  opposite  was  one  of  their  forts,  on 


64 


l 174  ] 

the  edge  of  a little  thicket,  two  or  three  hundred  feet  from  our  encamp- 
ment. We  were  posted  in  a grove  of  beech,  on  the  margin  of  the  lake, 
and  a few  hundred  feet  long,  with  a narrow  prairillon  on  the  inner  side, 
bordered  by  the  rocky  ridge.  In  the  upper  end  of  this  grove  we  cleared  a 
circular  space  about  forty  feet  in  diameter,  and,  with  the  felled  timber  and 
interwoven  branches,  surrounded  it  with  a breastwork  five  feet  in  height. 

A gap  was  left  for  a gate  on  the  inner  side,  by  which  the  animals  were  ! 
to  be  driven  in  and  secured,  while  the  men  slept  around  the  little  work,  i 
It  was  half  hidden  by  the  foliage;  and,  garrisoned  by  twelve  resolute 
men,  would  have  set  at  defiance  any  band  of  savages  which  might  chance  i 
to  discover  them  in  the  interval  of  our  absence.  Fifteen  of  the  best  ^ 
mules,  with  fourteen  men,  were  selected  for  the- mountain  party.  Our  pro- 
visions consisted  of  dried  meat  for  two  days,  with  our  little  stock  of  coffee  | 
and  some  maccaroni.  In  addition  to  the  barometer  and  a thermometer,  I 
took  with  me  a sextant  and  spy  glass,  and  we  had  of  course  our  compasses.  - 
In  charge  of  the  camp  I left  Bernier,  one  of  my  most  trustworthy  men, 
who  possessed  the  most,  determined  courage. 

August  12. — Early  in  the  morning  we  left  the  camp,  fifteen  in  number, 
well  armed,  of  course,  and  mounted  on  our  best,  mules.  A pack  animal 
carried  our  provisions,  with  a coffee  pot  and  kettle,  and  three  or  four  tin 
cups.  Every  man  had  a blanket  strapped  over  his  saddle,  to  serve 'for  his 
bed,  and  the  instruments  were  carried  by  turns  on  their  backs.  We  en- 
tered directly  on  rough  and  rocky  ground;  and,  just  after  crossing  the 
ridge,  had  the  good  fortune  to  shoot  an  antelope.  We  heard  the  roar,  and  ; 
had  a glimpse  of  a waterfall  as  we  rode  along ; and,  crossing  in  our  way  j 
two  fine  streams,  tributary  to  the  Colorado,  in  about  two  hours’  ride  we 
reached  the  top  of  the  first  row  or  range  of  the  mountains.  Here,  again, 
a view  of  the  most  romantic  beauty  met  our  eyes.  It  seemed  as  if,  from 
the  vast  expanse  of  uninteresting  prairie  we  had  passed  over,  Nature  had 
collected  all  her  beauties  together  in  one  chosen  place.  We  were  over- 
looking a deep  valley,  which  was  entirely  occupied  by  three  lakes,  and 
from  the  brink  the  surrounding  ridges  rose  precipitously  five  hundred  and 
a thousand  feet,  covered  with  the  dark  green  of  the  balsam  pine,  relieved 
on  the  border  of  the  lake  with  the  light  foliage  of  the  aspen.  They  ail 
communicated  with  each  other;  and  the  green  of  the  waters,  common  to 
mountain  lakes  of  great  depth,  showed  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
cross  them.  The  surprise  manifested  by  our  guides  when  these  impassable 
obstacles  suddenly  barred  our  progress  proved  that  they  were  among  the 
hidden  treasures  of  the  place,  unknown  even  to  the  wandering  trappers  of 
the  region.  Descending  the  hill,  we  proceeded  to  make  our  way  along 
the  margin  to  the  southern  extremity.  A narrow  strip  of  angular  frag- 
ments of  rock  sometimes  afforded  a rough  pathway  for  our  mules,  but 
generally  we  rode  along  the  shelving  side,  occasionally  scrambling  up,  at  a 
considerable  risk  of  tumbling  back  into  the  lake. 

The  slope  was  frequently  60°;  the  pines  grew  densely  together,  and 
the  ground  was  covered  with  the  branches  and  trunks  of  trees.  The  air 
was  fragrant  with  the  odor  of  the  pines ; and  I realized  this  delightful 
morning  the  pleasure  of  breathing  that  mountain  air  which  makes  a con- 
stant theme  of  the  hunter’s  praise,  and  which  now  made  us  feel  as  if  we 
had  all  been  drinking  some  exhilarating  gas.  The  depths  of  this  unex- 
plored forest  were  a place  to  delight  the  heart  of  a botanist.  There  was 
a rich  undergrowth  of  plants,  and  numerous  gay-colored  flowers  in  bril- 


65 


[ 174  ] 

liant  bloom.  We  reached  the  outlet  at  length,  where  some  freshly  barked 
willows  that  lay  in  the  water  showed  that  beaver  had  been  recently  at  work. 
There  were  some  small  brown  squirrels  jumping  about  in  the  pines,  and  a 
couple  of  large  mallard  ducks  swimming  about  in  the  stream. 

The  hills  on  this  southern  end  were  low,  and  the  lake  looked  like  a 
mimic  sea,  as  the  waves  broke  on  the  sandy  beach  in  the  force  of  a strong 
breeze.  There  was  a pretty  open  spot,  with  fine  grass  for  our  mules;  and 
we  made  our  noon  halt  on  ihe  beach,  under  the  shade  of  some  large  hem- 
locks. We  resumed  our  journey  after  a halt  of  about  an  hour,  making  our 
way  up  the  ridge  on  the  western  side  of  the  lake.  In  search  of  smoother 
ground,  we  rode  a little  inland;  and,  passing  through  groves  of  aspen,  soon 
found  ourselves  again  among  the  p,ines.  Emerging  from  these,  we  struck 
the  summit  of  the  ridge  above  the  upper  end  of  the  lake. 

We  had  reached  a very  elevated  point ; and  in  the  valley  below,  and 
among  the  hills,  were  a number  of  lakes  at  different  levels ; some  two  or 
three  hundred  feet  above  others,  with  which  they  communicated  by  foam- 
ing torrents.  Even  to  our  great  height,  the  roar  of  the  cataracts  came  up, 
and  we  could  see  them  leaping  down  in  lines  of  snowy  foam.  From  this 
scene  of  busy  waters,  we  turned  abruptly  into  the  stillness  of  a forest, 
where  we  rode  among  the  open  bolls  of  the  pines,  over  a lawn  of  verdant 
grass,  having  strikingly  the  air  of  cultivated  grounds.  This  led  us,  after 
a time,  among  masses  of  rock  which  had  no  vegetable  earth  but  in  hollows 
and  crevices,  though  still  the  pine  forest  continued.  Toward  evening,  we 
reached  a defile,  or  rather  a hole  in  the  mountains,  entirely  shut  in  by  dark 
pine-covered  rocks. 

A small  stream,  with  a scarcely  perceptible  current,  flowed  through  a 
level  bottom  of  perhaps  eighty  yards  width,  where  the  grass  was  saturated 
with  water.  Into  this  the  mules  were  turned,  and  were  neither  hobbled 
nor  picketed  during  the  night,  as  the  fine  pasturage  took  away  all  tempta- 
tion to  stray ; and  we  made  our  bivouac  in  the  pines.  The  surrounding 
masses  were  all  of  granite.  While  supper  was  being  prepared,  I set  out 
on  an  excursion  in  the  neighborhood,  accompanied  by  one  of  my  men. 
We  wandered  about  among  the  crags  and  ravines  until  dark,  richly  repaid 
for  our  walk  by  a fine  collection  of  plants,  many  of  them  in  full  bloom. 
Ascending  a peak  to  find  the  place  of  our  camp,  we  saw  that  the  little 
defile  in  which  we  lay  communicated  with  the  long  green  valley  of  some 
stream,  which,  here  locked  up  in  the  mountains,  far  away  to  the  south, 
found  its  way  in  a dense  forest  to  the  plains. 

Looking  along  its  upward  course,  it  seemed  to  conduct,  by  a smooth 
gradual  slope,  directly  toward  the  peak,  which,  from  long  consultation  as 
we  approached  the  mountain,  we  had  decided  to  be  the  highest  of  the 
range.  Pleased  with  the  discovery  of  so  fine  a road  for  the  next  day,  we 
hastened  down  to  the  camp,  where  we  arrived  just  in  time  for  supper. 
Our  table  service  was  rather  scant;  and  we  held  the  meat  in  our  hands, 
and  clean  rocks  made  good  plates,  on  which  we  spread  our  maccaroni. 
Among  all  the  strange  places  on  which  we  had  occasion  to  encamp  during 
our  long  journey,  none  have  left  so  vivid  an  impression  on  my  mind  as 
the  camp  of  this  evening.  The  disorder  of  the  masses  which  surrounded 
us;  the  little  hole  through  which  we  saw  the  stars  overhead;  the  dark 
pipes  where  we  slept;  and  the  rocks  lit  up  with  the  glow  of  our  fires, 
made  a night  picture  of  very  wild  beauty. 

August  13.-— The  morning  was  bright  and  pleasant,  just  cool  enough 
5 


66 


[ !?4  ] 

to  make  exercise  agreeable,  and  we  soon  entered  the  defile  I had  seen  the 
preceding  day.  It  was  smoothly  carpeted  with  a soft  grass,  and  scattered 
over  with' groups  of  flowers,  of  which  yellow  was  the  predominant  color. 
Sometimes  we  were  forced,  by  an  occasional  difficult  pass,  to  pick  our  way 
on  a narrow  ledge  along  the  side  of  the  defile,  and  the  mules  were  fre- 
quently on  their  knees;  but  these  obstructions  were  rare, and  we  journeyed 
on  in  the  sweet  morning  air,  delighted  at  our  good  fortune  in  having  found 
such  a beautiful  entrance  to  the  mountains.  This  road  continued  for  about 
three  miles,  when  we  suddenly  reached  its  termination  in  one  of  the  grand 
views  which,  at  every  turn,  meet  the  traveller  in  this  magnificent  region. 
Here  the  defile  up  which  we  had  travelled  opened  out  into  a small  lawn, 
where,  in  a little  lake,  the  stream  had  its  source. 

There  were  some  fine  asters  in  bloom,  but  all  the  flowering  plants  appear- 
ed to  seek  the  shelter  of  the  rocks,  and  to  be  of  lower  growth  than  below, 
as  if  they  loved  the  warmth  of  the  soil,  and  kept  out  of  the  way  of  the 
winds  Immediately  at  our  feet  a precipitous  descent  led  to  a confusion 
of  defiles,  and  before  us  rose  the  mountains  as  we  have  represented  them 
in  the  annexed  view.  It  is  not  by  the  splendor  of  far-off  views,  which 
have  lent  such  a glory  to  the  Alps,  that  these  impress  the  mind  ; but  by  a 
gigantic  disorder  of  enormous  masses,  and  a savage  sublimity  of  naked 
rock,  in  wonderful  contrast  with  innumerable  green  spots  of  a rich  floral 
beauty,  shut  up  in  their  stern  recesses.  Their  wildness  seems  well  suited 
to  the  character  of  the  people  who  inhabit  the  country. 

1 determined  to  leave  our  animals  here,  and  make  the  rest  of  our  way  on 
foot.  The  peak  appeared  so  near,  that  there  was  no  doubt  of  our  returning 
before  night;  and  a few  men  were  left  in  charge  of  the  mules,  with  our  pro- 
visions and  blankets.  We  took  with  us  nothing  but  our  arms  and  instru- 
ments, and,  as  the  day  had  become  warm,  the  greater  part  left  our  coats. 
Having  made  an  early  dinner,  we  started  again.  We  were  soon  involved 
in  the  most  ragged  precipices,  nearing  the  central  chain  very  slowly,  and 
rising  but  little.  The  first  ridge  hid  a succession  of  others;  and  when,  with 
great  fatigue  and  difficulty,  we  had  climbed  up  five  hundred  feet,  it  was  but 
to  make  an  equal  descent  on  the  other  side  ; all  these  intervening  places 
were  filled  with  small  deep  lakes,  which  met  the  eye  in  every  direction, 
descending  from  one  level  to  another,  sometimes  under  bridges  formed  by 
huge  fragments  of  granite,  beneath  which  was  heard  the  roar  of  the  water. 
These  constantly  obstructed  our  path,  forcing  us  to  make  long  detours; 
frequently  obliged  to  retrace  our  steps,  and  frequently  falling  among  the 
rocks.  Maxwell  was  precipitated  toward  the  face  of  a precipice,  and  saved 
himself  from  going  over  by  throwing  himself  flat  on  the  ground.  We 
clambered  on, always  expecting,  with  every  ridge  that  we  crossed,  to  reach 
the  foot  of  the  peaks,  and  always  disappointed,  until  about  4 o’clock,  when, 
pretty  well  worn  out,  we  reached  the  shore  of  a little  lake,  in  which  there 
was  a rocky  island,  and  from  which  we  obtained  the  view  given  in  the 
frontispiece.  We  remained  here  a short  time  to  rest,  and  continued  on 
around  the  lake,  which  had  in  some  places  a beach  of  white  sand,  and  in 
others  was  bound  with  rocks,  over  which  the  way  was  difficult  and  dan- 
gerous, as  the  water  from  innumerable  springs  made  them  very  slippery. 

By  the  time  we  had  reached  the  further  side  of  the  lake,  we  found  our- 
selves all  exceedingly  fatigued,  and,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  whole 
party,  we  encamped.  The  spot  we  had  chosen  was  a broad  flat  rock,  in 
some  measure  protected  from  the  win'ds  by  the  surrounding  crags,  and  the 


VIEW  OF  THE  WIND 


67 


[ 174  ] 

trunks  of  fallen  pines  afforded  us  bright  fires.  Near  by  was  a foaming  tor- 
rent, which  tumbled  into  the  little  lake  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet 
below  us,  and  which,  by  way  of  distinction,  we  have  called  Island  lake. 
We  had  reached  the  upper  limit  of  the  piney  region  ; as,  above  this  point, 
no  tree  was  to  be  seen,  and  patches  of  snow  lay  every  where  around  us  on 
the  cold  sides  of  the  rocks.  The  flora  of  the  region  we  had  traversed  since 
leaving  our  mules  was  extremely  rich,  and, among  the  characteristic  plants, 
the  scarlet  flowers  of  the  dodecatheon  dent  alum  every  where  met  the  eye 
in  great  abundance.  A small  green  ravine,  on  the  edge  of  which  we  were 
encamped,  was  filled  with  a profusion  of  alpine  plants  in  brilliant  bloom. 
From  barometrical  observations,  made  during  our  three  days’  sojourn  at 
this  place,  its  elevation  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  is  10,000  feet.  During 
the  day,  we  had  seen  no  sign  of  animal  life  ; but  among  the  rocks  here,  we 
heard  what  was  supposed  to  be  the  bleat  of  a young  goat,  which  we  search- 
ed for  with  hungry  activity,  and  found  to  proceed  from  a small  animal  of  a 
gray  color,  with  short  ears  and  no  tail — probably  the  Siberian  squirrel.  We 
saw  a considerable  number  of  them,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a small  bird 
like  a sparrow,  it  is  the  only  inhabitant  of  this  elevated  part  of  the  moun- 
tains. On  our  return,  we  saw,  below  this  lake,  large  flocks  of  the  mountain  ' 
goat.  We  had  nothing  to  eat  to-night.  Lajeunesse,  with  several  others, 
took  their  guns,  and  sallied  out  in  search  of  a goat;  but  returned  unsuccess- 
ful. At  sunset,  the  barometer  stood  at  20.522  ; the  attached  thermometer 
50°.  Here  we  had  the  misfortune  to  break  our  thermometer,  having  now 
only  that  attached  to  the  barometer.  I was  taken  ill  shortly  after  we  had 
encamped,  and  continued  so  until  late  in  the  night,  with  violent  headache 
and  vomiting.  This  was  probably  caused  by  the  excessive  fatigue  I had 
undergone,  and  want  of  food,  and  perhaps,  also,  in  some  measure,  by  the 
rarity  of  the  air.  The  night  was  cold,  as  a violent  gale  from  the  north  had 
sprung  up  at  sunset,  which  entirely  blew  away  the  heat  of  the  fires.  The 
cold,  and  our  granite  beds,  had  not  been  favorable  to  sleep,  and  we  were 
glad  to  see  the  face  of  the  sun  in  the  morning.  Not  being  delayed  by  any 
preparation  for  breakfast,  we  set  out  immediately. 

On  every  side  as  we  advanced  was  heard  the  roar  of  waters,  and  of  a 
torrent,  which  we  followed  up  a short  distance,  until  it  expanded  into  a lake 
about  one  mile  in  length.  On  the  northern  side  of  the  }ake  was  a bank  of 
ice,  or  rather  of  snow  covered  with  a crust  of  ice.  Carson  had  been  our 
guide  into  the  mountains,  and,  agreeably  to  his  advice,  we  left  this  little 
valley,  and  took  to  the  ridges  again  ; which  we  found  extremely  broken, 
and  where  we  were  again  involved  among  precipices.  Here  were  ice  fields; 
among  which  we  were  all  dispersed,  seeking  each  the  best  path  to  ascend 
the  peak.  Mr.  Preuss  attempted  to  walk  along  the  upper  edge  of  one  of 
these  fields,  which  sloped  away  at  an  angle  of  about  twenty  degrees;  but  his 
feet  slipped  from  under  him,  and  he  went  plunging  down  the  plane.  A few 
hundred  feet  below,  at  the  bottom,  were  some  fragments  of  sharp  rock,  on 
which  he  landed ; and  though  he  turned  a couple  of  somersets,  fortunately 
received  no  injury  beyond  a few  bruises.  Two  of  the  men,  Clement  Lam- 
bert and  Descoteaux,  had  been  taken  ill,  and  lay  down  on  the  rocks  a short 
distance  below  ; and  at  this  point  I was  attacked  with  headache  and  giddi- 
ness, accompanied  by  vomiting,  as  on  the  day  before.  Finding  myself  un- 
able to  proceed,  I sent  the  barometer  over  to  Mr.  Preuss,  who  was  in  a*gap 
two  or  three  hundred  yards  distant,  desiring  him  to  reach  the  peak,  if  pos- 
sible, and  take  an  observation  there.  He  found  himself  unable  to  proceed 


68 


[ 174  ] 

further  in  that  direction,  and  took  an  observation,  where  the  barometer  stood 
at  19.401 ; attached  thermometer  50°,  in  the  gap.  Carson,  who  had  gone 
over  to  him,  succeeded  in  reaching  one  of  the  snowy  summits  of  the  main 
ridge,  whence  he  saw  the  peak  towards  which  all  our  efforts  had  been  di- 
rected, towering  eight  or  ten  hundred  feet  into  the  air  above  him.  In  the 
mean  time,  finding  myself  grow  rather  worse  than  better,  and  doubtful  how 
far  my  strength  would  carry  me,  I sent  Basil  Lajeunesse,  with  four  men, 
back  to  the  place  where  the  mules  had  been  left. 

We  were  now  better  acquainted  with  the  topography  of  the  country,  and 
I directed  him  to  bring  back  with  him,  if  it  were  in  any  way  possible,  four 
or  five  mules,  with  provisions  and  blankets.  With  me  were  Maxwell  and 
Ayer ; and  after  we  had  remained  nearly  an  hour  on  the  rock,  it  became  so 
unpleasantly  cold,  though  the  day  was  bright,  that  we  set  out  on  our  return 
to  the  camp,  at  which  we  all  arrived  safely,  straggling  in  one  after  the  other. 
I continued  ill  during  the  afternoon,  but  became  better  towards  sundown, 
when  my  recovery  was  completed  by  the  appearance  of  Basil  and  four 
men,  all  mounted.  The  men  who  had  gone  with  him  had  been  too  much 
fatigued  to  return,  and  were  relieved  by  those  in  charge  of  the  horses ; but 
in  his  powers  of  endurance  Basil  resembled  more  a mountain  goat  than  a 
man.  They  brought  blankets  and  provisions,  and  we  enjoyed  well  our  dried 
meat  and  a cup  of  good  coffee.  We  rolled  ourselves  up  in  our  blankets, 
and,  with  our  feet  turned  to  a blazing  fire,  slept  soundly  until  morning. 

August  15. — It  had  been  supposed  that  we  had  finished  with  the  moun- 
tains : and  the  evening  before,  it  had  been  arranged  that  Carson  should  set 
out  at  daylight,  and  return  to  breakfast  at  the  Camp  of  the  Mules,  taking 
with  him  all  but  four  or  five  men,  who  were  to  stay  with  me  and  bring  back 
the  mules  and  instruments.  Accordingly,  at  the  break  of  day  they  set  out. 
With  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  remained  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Clement  Lambert, 
Janisse,  and  Descoteaux.  When  we  had  secured  strength  for  the  day  by 
a hearty  breakfast,  we  covered  what  remained,  which  was  enough  for  one 
meal,  with  rocks,  in  order  that  it  might  be  safe  from  any  marauding  bird  ; 
and,  saddling  our  mules,  turned  our  faces  once  more  towards  the  peaks. 
This  time  we  determined  to  proceed  quietly  and  cautiously,  deliberately 
resolved  to  accomplish  our  object  if  it  were  within  the  compass  of  human 
means.  We  were  of  opinion  that  a long  defile  which  lay  to  the  left  of  yes- 
terday’s route  would  lead  us  to  the  foot  of  the  main  peak.  Our  mules  had 
been  refreshed  by  the  fine  grass  in  the  little  ravine  at  the  Island  camp,  and 
we  intended  to  ride  up  the  defile  as  far  as  possible,  in  order  to  husband  our 
strength  for  the  main  ascent.  Though  this  was  a fine  passage,  still  it  was 
a defile  of  the  most  rugged  mountains  known,  and  we  had  many  a rough 
and  steep  slippery  place  to  cross  before  reaching  the  end.  In  this  place  the 
sun  rarely  shone  ; snow  lay  along  the  border  of  the  small  stream  which 
flowed  through  it,  and  occasional  icy  passages  made  the  footing  of  the  mules 
very  insecure,  and  the  rocks  and  ground  were  moist  with  the  trickling 
waters  in  this  spring  of  mighty  rivers.  We  soon  had  the  satisfaction  to 
find  ourselves  riding  along  the  huge  wall  which  forms  the  central  summits 
of  the  chain.  There  at  last  it  rose  by  our  sides,  a nearly  perpendicular  wall 
of  granite,  terminating  2,000  to  3,000  feet  above  our  heads  in  a serrated  line 
of  broken,  jagged  cones.  We  rode  on  until  we  came  almost  immediately 
below  the  main  peak,  which  I denominated  the  Snow  peak,  as  it  exhibited 
more  snow  to  the  eye  than  any  of  the  neighboring  summits.  Here  were 
three  small  lakes  of  a green  color,  each  of  perhaps  a thousand  yards  in 


69 


C 174  ] 

diameter,  and  apparently  very  deep.  These  lay  in  a kind  of  chasm;  and, 
according  to  the  barometer,  we  had  attained  but  a few  hundred  feet  above 
the  Island  lake.  The  barometer  here  stood  at  20.450,  attached  thermome- 
ter 70°.  ♦ 

We  managed  to  get  our  mules  up  to  a little  bench  about  a hundred  feet 
above  the  lakes,  where  there  was  a patch  of  good  grass,  and  turned  them 
loose  to  graze.  During  our  rough  ride  to  this  place,  they  had  exhibited  a 
wonderful  surefootedness.  Parts  of  the  defile  were  filled  with  angular, 
shar.p  fragments  of  rock,  three  or  four  and  eight  or  ten  feet  cube;  and  among 
these  they  had  worked  their  way,  leaping  from  one  narrow  point  to  another, 
rarely  making  a false  step,  and  giving  us  no  occasion  to  dismount.  Having 
divested  ourselves  of  every  unnecessary  encumbrance,  we  commenced  the 
ascent.  This  time,  like  experienced  travellers,  we  did  not  press  ourselves, 
but  climbed  leisurely,  sitting  down  so  soon  as  we  found  breath  beginning 
to  fail.  At  intervals  we  reached  places  where  a number  of  springs  gushed 
from  the  rocks,  and  about  1,800  feet  above  the  lakes  came  to  the  snow  line. 
From  this  point  our  progress  was  uninterrupted  climbing.  Hitherto  I had 
worn  a pair  of  thick  moccasins,  with  soles  of  parfleche;  but  here  I put  on 
a light  thin  pair,  which  I had  brought  for  the  purpose,  as  now  the  use  of 
our  toes  became  necessary  to  a further  advance.  I availed  myself  of  a sort 
of  comb  of  the  mountain,  which  stood  against  the  wall  like  a buttress,  and 
which  the  wind  and  the  solar  radiation,  joined  to  the  steepness  of  the  smooth 
rock,  had  kept  almost  entirely  free  from  snow.  Up  this  I made  my  way 
rapidly.  Our  cautious  method  of  advancing  in  the  outset  had  spared  my 
strength ; and,  with  the  exception  of  a slight  disposition  to  headache,  I felt 
no  remains  of  yesterday’s  illness.  In  a few  minutes  we  reached  a point 
where  the  buttress  was  overhanging,  and  there  was  no  other  way  of  sur- 
mounting the  difficulty  than  by  passing  around  one  side  of  it,  which  was 
the  face  of  a vertical  precipice  of  several  hundred  feet. 

Putting  hands  and  feet  in  the  crevices  between  the  blocks,  I succeeded 
in  getting  over  it,  and,  when  I reached  the  top,  found  my  companions  in  a 
small  valley  below.  Descending  to  them,  we  continued  climbing,  and  in 
a short  time  reached  the  crest.  I sprang  upon  the  summit,  and  another 
step  would  have  precipitated  me  into  an  immense  snow  field  five  hundred 
feet  below.  To  the  edge  of  this  field  was  a sheer  icy  precipice  ; and  then, 
with  a gradual  fall,  the  field  sloped  off  for  about  a mile,  until  it  struck  the 
foot  of  another  lower  ridge.  I stood  on  a narrow  crest,  about  three  feet  in 
width,  with  an  inclination  of  about  20°  N.  51°  E.  As  soon  as  I had  grati- 
fied the  first  feelings  of  curiosity,  I descended,  and  each  man  ascended  in 
his  turn;  for  I would  only  allow  one  at  a time  to  mount  the  unstable  and 
precarious  slab,  which  it  seemed  a breath  would  hurl  into  the  abyss  below. 
We  mounted  the  barometer  in  the  snow  of  the  summit,  and,  fixing  a ramrod 
in  a crevice,  unfurled  the  national  flag  to  wave  in  the  breeze  where  never 
flag  waved  before.  During  our  morning’s  ascent,  we  had  met  no  sign  of 
animal  life,  except  the  small  sparrow-like  bird  already  mentioned.  A still- 
ness the  most  profound  and  a terrible  solitude  forced  themselves  constantly 
on  the  mind  as  the  great  features  of  the  place.  Here,  on  the  summit,  where 
the  stillness  was  absolute,  unbroken  by  any  sound,  and  the  solitude  com- 
plete, we  thought  ourselves  beyond  the  region  of  animated  life ; but  while 
we  were  sitting  on  the  rock,  a solitary  bee  ( bromus , the  humble  bee)  came 
winging  his  flight  from  the  eastern  valley,  and  lit  on  the  knee  of  one  of  the 
men, 


70 


C 174  ] 

It  was  a strange  place,  the  icy”  rock  and  the  highest  peak  of  the  Rocky 
mountains,  for  a lover  of  warm  sunshine  and  flowers  ; and  we  pleased  our- 
selves with  the  idea  that  he  was  the  first  of  his  species  to  cross  the  mountain 
barrier — a solitary  pioneer  to  foretell  the  advance  of  civilization.  I believe 
that  a moment’s  thought  would  have  made  us  let  him  continue  his  way  un- 
harmed ; but  we  carried  out  the  law  of  this  country,  where  all  animated  na- 
ture seems  at  war ; and,  seizing  him  immediately,  put  him  in  at  least  a fit 
place — in  the  leaves  of  a large  book,  among  the  flowers  we  had  collected 
on  our  way.  The  barometer  stood  at  1S.293,  the  attached  thermometer  at 
44°:  giving  for  the  elevation  of  this  summit  13,570  feet  above  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  which  may  be  called  the  highest  flight  of  the  bee.  It  is  certainly 
the  highest  known  flight  of  that  insect.  From  the  description  given  by 
Mackenzie  of  the  mountains  where  he  crossed  them,  with  that  of  a French 
officer  still  farther  to  the  north,  and  Colonel  Long’s  measurements  to  the 
south,  joined  to  the  opinion  of  the  oldest  traders  of  the  country,  it  is  pre- 
sumed that  this  is  the  highest  peak  of  the  Rocky  mountains.  The  day  was 
sunny  and  bright,  but  a slight  shining  mist  hung  over  the  lower  plains, 
which  interfered  with  our  view  of  the  surrounding  country.  On  one  side 
we  overlooked  innumerable  lakes  and  streams,  the  spring  of  the  Colorado  of 
the  Gulf  of  California  ; and  on  the  other  was  the  Wind  river  valley,  where 
were  the  heads  of  the  Yellowstone  branch  of  the  Missouri  ; far  to  the  north, 
we  just  could  discover  the  snowy  heads  of  the  Trois  Tetons,  where  were 
the  sources  of  the  Missouri  and  Columbia  rivers;  and  at  the  southern  ex- 
tremity of  the  ridge,  the  peaks  were  plainly  visible,  among  which  were 
some  of  the  springs  of  the  Nebraska  or  Platte  river.  Around  us,  the  whole 
scene  had  one  main  striking  feature,  which  was  that  of  terrible  convulsion. 
Parallel  to  its  length,  the  ridge  was  split  into  chasms  and  fissures;  between 
which  rose  the  thin  lofty  walls,  terminated  with  slender  minarets  and 
columns,  which  is  correctly  represented  in  the  view  from  the  camp  on 
Island  lake.  According  to  the  barometer,  the  little  crest  of  the  wall  on  which 
we  stood  was  three  thousand  five  hundred  and  seventy  feet  above  that  place, 
and  two  thousand  seven  hundred  and  eighty  above  the  little  lakes  at  the 
bottom,  immediately  at  our  feet.  Our  camp  at  the  Two  Hills  (an  astro- 
nomical station)  bore  south  3°  east,  which,  with  a bearing  afterward  ob- 
tained from  a fixed  position,  enabled  us  to  locate  the  peak.  The  bearing 
of  the  Trois-  Tetons  was  north  50°  west,  and  the  direction  of  the  central 
ridge  of  the  Wind  river  mountains  south  39°  east.  The  summit  rock  was 
gneiss,  succeeded  by  sienitic  gneiss.  Sienite  and  feldspar  succeeded  in 
our  descent  to  the  snow  line,  where  we  found  a feldspathic  granite.  I had 
remarked  that  the  noise  produced  by  the  explosion  of  our  pistols  had  the 
usual  degree  of  loudness,  but  was  not  in  the  least  prolonged,  expiring  al- 
most instantaneously.  Having  now  made  what  observations  our  means 
afforded,  we  proceeded  to  descend.  We  had  accomplished  an  object  of 
laudable  ambition,  and  beyond  the  strict  order  of  our  instructions.  We 
had  climbed  the  loftiest  peak  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  looked  down 
upon  the  snow  a thousand  feet  below,  and,  standing  where  never  human 
foot  had  stood  before,  felt  the  exultation  of  first  explorers.  It  was  about  2 
o’clock  when  we  left  the  summit ; and  when  we  reached  the  bottom,  the  sun 
had  already  sunk  behind  the  wall,  and  the  day  was  drawing  to  a close.  It 
would  have  been  pleasant  to  have  lingered  here  and  on  the  summit  longer; 
but  we  hurried  away  as  rapidly  as  the  ground  would  permit,  for  it  was  an 


71  [ 174  ] 

object  to  regain  our  party  as  soon  as  possible,  not  knowing  what  accident 
the  next  hour  might  bring  forth. 

We  reached  our  deposite  of  provisions  at  nightfall.  Here  was  not  the 
inn  which  awaits  the  tired  traveller  on  his  return  from  Mont  Blanc,  or  the 
orange  groves  of  South  America,  with  their  refreshing  juices  and  soft  fra- 
grant air ; but  we  found  our  little  cache  of  dried  meat  and  coffee  undis- 
turbed. Though  the  moon  was  bright,  the  road  was  full  of  precipices,  and 
the  fatigue  of  the  day  had  been  great.  We  therefore  abandoned  the  idea 
of  rejoining  our  friends,  and  lay  down  on  the  rock,  and,  in  spite  of  the 
cold,  slept  soundly. 

August  16. — We  left  our  encampment  with  the  daylight.  We  saw  on 
our  way  large  hocks  of  the  mountain  goat  looking  down  on  us  from  the 
cliffs.  At  the  crack  of  a rifle,  they  would  bound  off  among  the  recks,  and 
in  a few  minutes  make  their  appearance  on  some  lofty  peak,  some  hundred 
or  a thousand  feet  above.  It  is  needless  to  attempt  any  further  description 
of  the  country;  the  portion  over  which  we  travelled  this  morning  was 
rough  as  imagination  could  picture  it,  and  to  us  seemed  equally  beautiful. 
A concourse  of  lakes  and  rushing  waters,  mountains  of  rocks  naked  and 
destitute  of  vegetable  earth,  dells  and  ravines  of  the  most  exquisite  beauty, 
all  kept  green  and  fresh  by  the  great  moisture  in  the  air,  and  sown  with 
brilliant  flowers,  and  every  where  thrown  around  all  the  glory  of  most  mag- 
nificent scenes:  these  constitute  the  features  of  the  place,  and  impress  them- 
selves vividly  on  the  mind  of  the  traveller.  It  was  not  until  11  o’clock  that 
we  reached  the  place  where  our  animals  had  been  left,  when  we  first  at- 
tempted the  mountains  on  foot.  Near  one  of  the  still  burning  fires  we 
found  a piece  of  meat,  which  our  friends  had  thrown  away,  and  which 
furnished  us  a mouthful — a very  scanty  breakfast.  We  continued  directly 
on,  and  reached  our  camp  on  the  mountain  lake  at  dusk.  We  found  all 
well.  Nothing  hud  occurred  to  interrupt  the  quiet  since  our  departure, 
and  the  fine  grass  and  good  cool  water  had  done  much  to  re  establish 
our  animals.  All  heard  with  great  delight  the  order  to  turn  our  faces 
homeward;  and  toward  sundown  of  the  17th,  we  encamped  again  at  the 
Two  Buttes. 

In  the  course  of  this  afternoon’s  march,  the  barometer  was  broken  past 
remedy.  I regretted  it,  as  I was  desirous  to  compare  it  again  with  Dr.  En- 
gelman’s  barometers  at  St.  Louis,  to  which  mine  were  referred  ; but  it  had 
done  its  part  well,  and  my  objects  were  mainly  fulfilled. 

August  19. — We  left  our  camp  on  Little  Sandy  river  about  7 in  the 
morning,  and  traversed  the  same  sandy,  undulating  country.  The  air  was 
filled  with  the  turpentine  scent  of  the  various  artemisias , which  are  now 
in  bloom,  and,  numerous  as  they  are,  give  much  gayety  to  the  landscape 
of  the  plains.  At  10  o’clock,  we  stood  exactly  on  the  divide  in  the  pass, 
where  the  wagon  road  crosses, and,  descending  immediately  upon  the  S weet 
Water,  halted  to  take  a meridian  observation  of  the  sim.  The  latitude  was 
42°  24'  32'\  v 

In  the  course  of  the  afternoon  we  saw  buffalo  again,  and  at  our  evening 
halt  on  the  Sweet  Water  the  roasted  ribs  again  made  their  appearance 
around  the  fires  ; and,  with  them,  good  humor,  and  laughter,  and  song,  were 
restored  to  t 'e  camp  Our  coffee  had  been  expended,  but  we  now  made  a 
kird  of  lea  from  the  roots  of  the  wild  cherry  tree. 

August  23. — Yesterday  evening  we  reached  our  encampment  at  Rock 
Independence,  wher  i I took  some  astronomical  observations.  Here,  not 


72 


[ 1?4  ] 

unmindful  of  the  custom  of  early  travellers  and  explorers  in  our  country, 
I engraved  on  this  rock  of  the  Far  West  a symbol  of  the  Christian  faith. 
Among  the  thickly  inscribed  names,  I made  on  the  hard  granite  the  im- 
pression of  a large  cross,  which  I covered  with  a black  preparation  of  India 
rubber,  well  calculated  to  resist  the  influence  of  wind  and  rain.  It  stands 
amidst  the  names  of  many  who  have  long  since  found  their  way  to  the 
grave,  and  for  whom  the  huge  rock  is  a giant  gravestone. 

One  George  Weymouth  was  sent  out  to  Maine  by  the  Earl  of  South- 
ampton, Lord  Arundel,  and  others  ; and  in  the  narrative  of  their  discoveries, 
he  says:  “The  next  day,  we  ascended  in  our  pinnace  that  part  of  the 
river  which  lies  more  to  the  westward,  carrying  with  us  a cross — a thing 
never  omitted  by  any  Christian  traveller — which  we  erected  at  the  ultimate 
end  of  our  route.”  This  was  in  the  year  1605  ; and  in  1842  I obeyed  the 
feeling  of  early  travellers,  and  left  the  impression  of  the  cross  deeply  en- 
graved on  the  vast  rock  one  thousand  miles  beyond  the  Mississippi, 
to  which  discoverers  have  given  the  national  name  of  Rock  Independence. 

In  obedience  to  my  instructions  to  survey  the  river  Platte,  if  possible,  I 
had  determined  to  make  an  attempt  at  this  place.  The  India-rubber  boat 
was  filled  with  air,  placed  in  the  water,  and  loaded  with  what  was  neces- 
sary for  our  operations;  and  I embarked  with  Mr.  Preuss  and  a party  of 
men.  When  we  had  dragged  our  boat  for  a mile  or  two  over  the  sands,  I 
abandoned  the  impossible  undertaking,  and  waited  for  the  arrival  of  the 
party,  when  we  packed  up  our  boat  and  equipage,  and  at  9 o’clock  were 
again  moving  along  on  our  land  journey.  We  continued  along  the  valley 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  Sweet  Water,  where  the  formation,  as  already  de- 
scribed, consists  of  a grayish  micaceous  sandstone,  and  fine-grained  con- 
glomerate, and  marl.  We  passed  over  a ridge  which  borders  or  constitutes 
the  river  hills  of  the  Platte,  consisting  of  huge  blocks,  sixty  or  eighty  feet 
cube,  of  decomposing  granite.  The  cement  which  united  them  was  proba- 
bly of  easier  decomposition,  and  has  disappeared  and  left  them  isolate,  and 
separated  by  small  spaces.  Numerous  horns  of  the  mountain  goat  were 
lying  among  the  rocks  ; and  in  the  ravines  were  cedars,  whose  trunks  were 
of  extraordinary  size.  From  this  ridge  we  descended  to  a small  open  plain 
at  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  which  rushed  with  a rapid  current  into 
the  Platte,  here  flowing  along  in  a broad,  tranquil,  and  apparently  deep 
stream,  which  seemed,  from  its  turbid  appearance,  to  be  considerably 
swollen.  I obtained  here  some  astronomical  observations,  and  the  after- 
noon was  spent  in  getting  oiir  boat  ready  for  navigation  the  next  day. 

August  24. — We  started  before  sunrise,  intending  to  breakfast  at  Goat 
island.  I had  directed  the  land  party,  in  charge  of  Bernier,  to  proceed  to 
this  place,  where  they  were  to  remain,  should  they  find  no  note  to  apprize 
them  of  our  having  passed.  In  the  event  of  receiving  this  information, 
they  were  to  continue  their  route,  passing  by  certain  places  which  had  been 
designated.  Mr.  Preuss  accompanied  me,  and  with  us  were  five  of  my 
best  men,  viz:  C. "'Lambert,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Honore  Ayot,  Benoist,  and 
Descoteaux.  Here  appeared  no  scarcity  of  water,  and  we  took  on  board, 
with  various  instruments  and  baggage,  provisions  for  ten  or  twelve  days. 
We  paddled  down  the  river  rapidly,  for  our  little  craft  was  light  as  a duck 
on  the  water;  and  the  sun  had  been  sometime  risen,  when  we  heard  before 
us  a hollow  roar,  which  we  supposed  to  be  that  of  a fall,  of  which  we  had 
heard  a vague  rumor,  but  whose  exact  locality  no  one  had  been  able  to  de- 
scribe tc  us.  We  were  approaching  a ridge,  through  which  the  river  passes 


73 


[ 174  ] 

by  a place  called  “ canon, ” (pronounced  /canyon,)  a Spanish  word,  signify- 
ing a piece  of  artillery,  the  barrel  of  a gun,  or  any  kind  of  tube  ; and 
which,  in  this  country,  has  been  adopted  to  describe  the  passage  of  a'  river 
between  perpendicular  rocks  of  great  height,  which  frequently  approach 
each  other  so  closely  overhead  as  to  form  a kind  of  tunnel  over  the  stream, 
which  foams  along  below,  half  choked  up  by  fallen  fragments.  Between 
the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water  and  Goat  island,  there  is  probably  a fall  of 
300  feet,  and  that  was  principally  made  in  the  canons  before  us  ; as,  with- 
out them,  the  water  was  comparatively  smooth.  As  we  neared  the  ridge, 
the  river  made  a sudden  turn,  and  swept  squarely  down  against  one  of  the 
walls  of  the  canon  with  a great  velocity,  and  so  steep  a descent,  that  it  had, 
to  the  eye,  the  appearance  of  an  inclined  plane.  When  we  launched  into 
this,  the  men  jumped  overboard,  to  check  the  velocity  of  the  boat,  but  were 
soon  in  water  up  to  their  necks,  and  our  boat  ran  on  ; but  we  succeeded  in 
bringing  her  to  a small  point  of  rocks  on  the  right,  at  the  mouth  of  the 
canon.  Here  was  a kind  of  elevated  sand  beach,  not  many  yards  square, 
backed  by  the  rocks,  and  around  the  point  the  river  swept  at  a right  angle. 
Trunks  of  trees  deposited  on  jutting  points  20  or  30  feet  above,  and  other 
marks,  showed  that  the  water  here  frequently  rose  to  a considerable  height. 
The  ridge  was  of  the  same  decomposing  granite  already  mentioned,  and 
the  water  had  worked  the  surface,  in  many  places,  into  a wavy  surface  of 
ridges  and  holes.  We  ascended  the  rocks  to  reconnoitre  the  ground,  and 
from  the  summit  the  passage  appeared  to  be  a continued  cataract  foaming 
over  many  obstructions,  and  broken  by  a number  of  small  falls.  We  saw 
nowhere  a fall  answering  to  that  which  had  been  described  to  us  as  having 
20  or  25  feet ; but  still  concluded  this  to  be  the  place  in  question,  as,  in  the 
season  of  floods,  the  rush  of  the  river  against  the  wall  would  produce  a 
great  rise,  and  the  waters,  reflected  squarely  off,  would  descend  through  the 
passage  in  a sheet  of  foam,  having  every  appearance  of  a large  fall.  Eigh- 
teen years  previous  to  this  time,  as  I have  subsequently  learned  from  him- 
self, Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  somewhere  above  on  this  river,  had  embarked  with  a 
valuable  cargo  of  beaver.  Unacquainted  with  the  stream,  which  he  be- 
lieved would  conduct  him  safely  to  the  Missouri,  he  came  unexpectedly  into 
this  canon,  where  ho  was  wrecked,  with  the  total  loss  of  his  furs.  At  would 
have  been  a work  of  great  time  and  labor  to  pack  our  baggage  across  the 
ridge,  and  I determined  to  run  the  canon.  We  all  again  embarked,  and  at 
first  attempted  to  check  the  way  of  the  boat ; but  the  water  swept  through 
with  so  much  violence  that  we  narrowly  escaped  being  swamped,  and  were 
obliged  to  let  her  go  in  the  full  force  of  the  current,  and  trust  to  the  skill  of 
the  boatmen.  The  dangerous  places  in  this  canon  were  where  huge  rocks 
had  fallen  from  above,  and  hemmed  in  the  already  narrow  pass  of  the 
river  to  an  open  space  of  three  or  four  and  five  feet.  These  obstructions 
raised  the  water  considerably  above,  which  was  sometimes  precipitated  over 
in  a fall ; and  at  other  places,  where  this  dam  was  too  high,  rushed  through 
the  contracted  opening  with  tremendous  violence.  Had  our  boat  been 
made  of  wood,  in  passing  the  narrows  she  would  have  been  staved  ; but 
her  elasticity  preserved  her  unhurt  from  every  shock,  and  she  seemed  fairly 
to  leap  over  the  falls. 

In  this  way  we  passed  three  cataracts  in  succession,  where,  perhaps  100 
feet  of  smooth  water  intervened  ; and,  finally,  with  a shout  of  pleasure  at 
our  success,  issued  from  our  tunnel  into  the  open  day  beyond.  We  were 
so  delighted  with  the  performance  of  our  boat,  and  so  confident  in  her 


74 


1 


[ 174  ] 


powers,  that  we  would  not  have  hesitated  to  leap  a fall  of  ten  feet  with  her. 
We  put  to  shore  for  breakfast  at  some  willows  on  the  right  bank,  immedi-  ja 
ately  below  the  mouth  of  the  canon  ; for  it  was  now  8 o’clock,  and  we  had  H 
been  working  since  daylight,  and  were  all  wet,  fatigued,  and  hungry. 
While  the  men  were  preparing  breakfast,  I went  out  to  reconnoitre.  The  1 
view  was  very  limited.  The  course  of  the  river  was  smooth,  so  far  as  I 
could  see;  on  both  sides  were  broken  hills;  and  but  a mile  or  two  below 
was  another  high  ridge.  The  rock  at  the  mouth  of  the  canon  was  still  the 
decomposing  granite,  with  great  quantities  of  mica,  which  made  a very 
glittering  sand. 

We  re-embarked  at  9 o’clock,  and  in  about  twenty  minutes  reached  the 
next  canon.  Landing  on  a rocky  shore  at  its  commencement,  we  ascended 
the  ridge  to  reconnoitre.  Portage  was  out  of  the  question.  So  far  as  we 
could  see,  the  jagged  rocks  pointed  out  the  course  of  the  canon,  on  a wind- 
ing line  of  seven  or  eight  miles.  It  was  simply  a narrow,  dark  chasm  in 
the  rock ; and  here  the  perpendicular  faces  were  much  higher  than  in  the 
previous  pass,  being  at  this  end  two  to  three  hundred,  and  further  down,  as 
we  afterwards  ascertained,  five  hundrejd  feet  in  vertical  height.  Our  pre- 
vious success  had  made  us  bold,  and  we  determined  again  to  run  the  canon. 
Every  thing  was  secured  as  firmly  as  possible ; and  having  divested  our- 
selves of  the  greater  part  of  our  clothing,  we  pushed  into  the  stream.  To 
save  our  chronometer  from  accident,  Mr.  Preuss  took  it,  and  attempted  to 
proceed  along  the  shore  on  the  masses  of  rock,  which  in  places  were  piled  ~ 
up  on  either  side;  but, after  he  had  walked  about  five  minutes, every  thing 
like  shore  disappeared,  and  the  vertical  wall  came  squarely  down  into  the 
water.  He  therefore  waited  until  we  came  up  An  ugly  pass  lay  before  us. 
We  had  made  fast  to  the  stern  of  the  boat  a strong  rope  about  fifty  feet  long; 
and  three  of  the  men  clambered  along  among  the  rocks,  and  with  this  rope 
let  her  down  slowly  through  the  pass.  In  several  places  high  rocks  lay  scat- 
tered about  in  the  channel ; and  in  the  narrows  it  required  all  our  strength 
and  skill  to  avoid  staving  the  boat  on  the  sharp  points.  In  one  of  these,  the 
boat  proved  a little  too  broad,  and  stuck  fast  for  an  instant,  while  the  water 
flew  over  us;  fortunately,  it  was  but  for  an  instant,  as  our  united  strength 
forced  her  immediately  through.  The  water  swept  overboard  only  a sextant 
and  a pair  of  saddlebags.  I caught  the  sextant  as  it  passed  by  me  ; but  the 
saddlebags  became  the  prey  of  the  whirlpools.  We  reached  the  place  where 
Mr.  Preuss  was  standing,  took  him  on  board,  and,  with  the  aid  of  the  boat, 
put  the  men  with  the  rope  on  the  succeeding  pile  of  rocks.  We  found  this 
passage  much  worse  than  the  previous  one, and  our  position  was  rather  a bad 
one.  To  go  back,  was  impossible  ; before  us,  the  cataract  was  a sheet  of 
foam  ; and  shut  up  in  the  chasm  by  the  rocks,  which,  in  some  places,  seemed 
almost  to  meet  overhead,  the  roar  of  the  water  was' deafening.  We  pushed 
off  again  ; but,  after  making  a little  distance,  the  force  of  the  current  became 
too  great  for  the  men  on  shore,  and  two  of  them  let  go  the  rope.  Lajeunesse, 
the  third  man,  hung  on,  and  was  jerked  headforemost-into  the  river  from  a 
rock  about  twelve  feet  high  ; and  down  the  boat  shot  like  an  arrow,  Basil 
following  us  in  the  rapid  current,  and  exerting  all  his  strength  to  keep  in 
mid  channel — his  head  only  seen  occasionally  like  a black  spot  in  the  white  N 
foam.  How  far  we  went,  I do  not  exactly  know  ; but  we  succeeded  in  turn- 
ing the  boat  into  an  eddy  below  “ ’ Cre  Dieu ,”  said  Bash  Lajeunesse,  as 
he  arrived  immediately  after  us,  uJe  crois  bien  que j\ii  nag£  an  demi  mile 
He  had  owed  his  life  to  his  skill  as  a swimmer;  and  I determined  to  take 


75 


[ 174  ] 

him  and  the  two  others  on  board,  and  trust  to  skill  and  fortune  to  reach  the 
other  end  in  safety.  We  placed  ourselves  on  our  knees,  with  the  short 
paddies  in  our  hands,  the  most  skilful  boatman  being  at  the  bow;  and 
again  we  commenced  our  rapid  descent.  We  cleared  rock  after  rock,  and 
shot  past  fall  after  fall,  our  little  boat  seeming  to  play  with  the  cataract. 
We  became  flushed  with  success,  and  familiar  with  the  danger  ; and,  yield- 
ing to  the  excitement  of  the  occasion,  broke  forth  together  into  a Canadian 
boat  song.  Singing,  or  rather  shouting,  we  dashed  along;  and  were,  I 
believe,  in  the  midst  of  the  chorus,  when  the  boat  struck  a concealed  rock 
immediately  at  the  foot  of  a fall,  which  whirled  her  over  in  an  instant. 
Three  of  my  men  could  not  swim,  and  my  first  feeling  was  to  assist  them, 
and  save  some  of  our  effects;  but  a sharp  concussion  or  two  convinced  me 
that  I had  not  yet  saved  myself.  A few  strokes  brought  me  into  an  eddy, 
and  I lauded  on  a pile  of  rocks  on  the  left  side.  Looking  around,  I saw  that 
Mr.  Preuss  had  gained  the  shore  on  the  same  side,  about  twenty  yards 
below  ; aud  a little  climbing  and  swimming  soon  brought  him  to  my  side. 
On  the  opposite  side,  against  the  wall,  lay  the  boat  bottom  up  ; and  Lambert 
'was  in  the  act  of  saving  Descoteau^’  whom  he  had  grasped  by  the  hair, 
and  who  could  not  swim  : “Lachepas”  said  he,  as  I afterward  learned, 
u lache  pas,  cher  frkre.”  “Crains  pas”  was  the  reply,  u Je  rrden  vais 
mourir  avant  quc  de  te  lacher.”  Such  was  the  reply  of  courage  and 
generosity  in  this  danger.  For  a hundred  yards  below,  the  current  was  cov- 
ered with  floating  books  and  boxes,  bales  of  blankets,  and  scattered  articles 
of  clothing;  and  so  strong  and  boiling  was  the  stream,  that  even  our  heavy 
instruments,  which  were  all  in  cases,  kept  on  the  surface,  and  the  sextant, 
circle,  and  the  long  black  box  of  the  telescope,  were  in  view  at  once.  For 
a moment,  I felt  somewhat  disheartened.  All  our  books — almost  every 
record  of  the  journey — our  journals  and  registers  of  astronomic^ and  bar- 
ometrical observations — had  been  lost  in  a moment.  But  it  was  no  time  to 
indulge  in  regrets;  and  I immediately  set  about  endeavoring  to  save  some- 
thing from  the  wreck.  Making  ourselves  understood  as  well  as  possible  by 
signs,  (for  nothing  could  be  heard  in  the  roar  of  waters,)  we  commenced  our 
operations.  Of  every  thing  on  board,  the  only  article  that  had  been  saved 
was  my  double  barrelled  gun,  which  Descoteaux  had  caught,  and  clung  to 
withdrowning  tenacity.  The  men  continued  down  the  river  on  the  left  bank, 
Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  descended  on  the  side  we  were  on;  and  Lajeunesse, 
with  a paddle  in  his  hand,  jumped  on  the  boat  alone,  and  continued  down 
the  canon.  She  was  now  light,  and  cleared  every  bad  place  with  much  less 
difficulty.  In  a short  time,  he  was  joined  by  Lambert ; and  the  search  was 
continued  for  about  a mile  and  a half,  which  was  as  far  as  the  boat  could 
proceed  in  the  pass. 

Here  the  walls  were  about  five  hundred  feet  high,  and  the  fragmentsof 
rocks  from  above  had  choked  the  riverinto  a hollow  pass,  but  one  or  two 
feet  above  the  surface.  Through  this  and  the  interstices  of  the  rock,  the  wa- 
ter found  its  way.  Favored  beyond  our  expectations,  all  of  our  registers  had 
been  recovered,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  my  journals,  which  contained 
the  notes  and  incidents  of  travel,  and  topographical  descriptions,  a number  of 
scattered  astronomical  observations,  principally  meridian  altitudes  of  the 
sun,  and  our  barometrical  register  west  of  Laramie. . Fortunately,  our  other 
journals  contained  duplicates  of  the  most  important  barometrical  observa- 
tions which  had  bpen  taken  in  the  mountains.  These,  with  a few  scattered 
notes,  were  all  that  had  .been  preserved  of  our  meteorological  observations. 


76 


[ 174  ] 

In  addition  to  these,  we  saved  the  circle ; and  these,  with  a few  blankets 
constituted  every  thing  that  had  been  rescued  from  the  waters.  ’ 

The  day  was  running  rapidly  away,  and  it  was  necessary  to  reach  Goat 
island,  whither  the  party  had  preceded  us,  before  night.  In  this  uncertain 
country,  the  traveller  is  so  muc'h  in  the  power  of  chance,  that  we  became 
**neasy  111  regard  to  them.  Should  any  thing  have  occurred,  in 
the  buef  interval  of  our  separation,  to  prevent  our  rejoining  them,  our  situ- 
ation would  be  rather  a desperate  one.  We  had  not  a morsel  of  provisions- 
our  arms  and  ammunition  were  gone — and  we  were  entirely  at  the  mercv 
w “aT  straSgllng-  I,arty  of  savages,  and  not  a little  in  danger  of  starvation. 
YVe  therefore  set  out  at  once  in  two  parties.  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  on  the 
ten,  and  the  men  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Climbing  out  of  the 
canon,  we  found  ourselves  in  a very  broken  country,  where  we  were  not 
yet  able  to  recognise  any  locality.  In  the  course  of  our  descent  thron°-h 
the  canon,  the  rock,  which  at  the  upper  end  was  of  the  decomposing  granite 
changed  into  a varied  sandstone  formation.  The  hills  and  points  of  the 
ridges  were  covered  with  fragments  of  a yellow  sandstone,  of  which  the 

strata  were  sometimes  displayed  in  the  broken  ravines  which  interrupted 

our  course,  and  made  our  walk  extremely  fatiguing.  At  one  point  of  the 

canon  the  red  argillaceous  sandstone  rose  in  a wall  of  five  hundred  feet 
surmounted  by  a stratum  of  white  sandstone ; and  in  an  opposite  ravine  a 

fiftv  feet°hiJhd  STh  S‘0ne  f°Se’ 1,1  f°™  lik<; a steePle> about  one  hundred  and 
K rX  The  scenery  was  extremely  picturesque,  and.notwithstand- 

Onr  nr«f  condition,  we  were  frequently  obliged  to  stop  and  admire  it 

naked  .IT®  WaS  "0t  Very  ,rar>ld-  „We  had  emerged  from  the  water  half 
naked,  and,  on  arriving  at  the  top  of  the  precipice,  I found  mvself  with  onlv 

one  moccasin.  The  fragments  of  rock  made  walking  painf”!  andfwas 
quently  obliged  to  stop  and  pull  out  the  thorns  of  the  cactus,  here  thepre- 

mv  feftP  aFmm  a f®W  rainutes’  walk  co™red  the  bottom  of 

ny  leet.  From  this  ridge  the  river  emerged  into  a smiling  prairie  and  de 

spending  to  the  bank  for  water,  we  were  “joined  by  Benoit.  Tto  rest  Of 

the  party  were  out  of  sight,  having  taken  a more  inland  route.  We  crossed 

clhnbJdernveped' 3d|y-somretimes  able  ford  it,  and  sometimes  swimming- 
climbed  over  the  ridges  of  two  more  canons,  and  towards  eveninc  reached 

n iX’  it  ,We  P°re  nardthe  H0t  SPri"§  Sate-  On  our  previous  vis  J 
in  Jul},  we  had  not  entered  this  pass,  reserving  it  for  our  descent  in  thp 

feer5 ^"d  When  WTTent^ed  k this  evening,  Mr.  Preuss  was  a few  hundred 
fine  h MdVanCe'  Heated  witli  the  long  march,  he  came  suddenly  upon  a 
fine  bold  spring  gushing  from  the  rock,  about  ten  feet  above  lire  river 

,fnlml.rnJOyt'i?rC7Stra  water’,he  himself  down  for  a hasty  draught! 

no^  wLaim1Uhhf  ;7,Water  a,”°f  boUil1?  hot-  He  said  nothing  to  Be- 
notst,  who  laid  himself  down  to  drink ; but  the  steam  from  the  water  arrest- 
ed his  eagerness,  and  he  escaped  the  hot  draught.  We  had  no  thermometer 
to  ascertain  the  temperature,  but  I could  hold  my  hand  in  the  water  iust  lon<* 
enough  to  count  two  seconds.  There  are  eight  or  ten  of  thele  spring!  dil 
charging  themselves  by  streams  large  enough  to  be  called  runs.  A lold’hol- 

folTnf  1!Se  W1S  hem!d  fr°m  tbe  rock’  which  1 suPPOsed  to  be  produced  by  the 
fall  of  the  water.  1 he  strata  immediately  where  they  issue  is  a fine  whiteand 

fnlThf«0ThSandStOIJe’  C7Td  With  an  illcrustation  of  common  salt.  Leav- 
tng  this  rhermopyla;  of  the  west,  in  a short  walk  we  reached  the  red  ridge 
which  has  been  described  as  lying  just  above  Goat  Island.  Ascending  thfs 
we  found  some  fresh  tracks  and  a button,  which  showed  that  the  othe?  men 


77 


[ 174  ] 

had  already  arrived.  A shout  from  the  man  who  first  reached  the  top  of 
the  ridge,  responded  to  from  below,  informed  us  that  our  friends  were  all 
on  the  island  ; and  we  were  soon  among  them.  We  found  some  pieces  of 
buffalo  standing  around  the  fire  for  us,  and  managed  to  get  some  dry  clothes 
among  the  people.  A sudden  storm  of  rain  drove  us  into  the  best  shelter 
we  could  find,  where  we  slept  soundly,  after  one  of  the  most  fatiguing 
days  I have  ever  experienced. 

* August  25. — Early  this  morning  Lajeunesse  was  sent  to  the  wreck  for 
the  articles  which  had  been  saved,  and  about  noon  we  left  the  island.  The 
mare  which  we  had  left  here  in  July  had  much  improved  in  condition,  and 
she  served  us  well  again  for  some  time,  but  was  finally  abandoned  at  a 
subsequent  part  of  the  journey.  At  10  in  the  morning  of  the  26th  we 
reached  Cache  camp,  where  we  found  every  thing  undisturbed.  We  disin- 
terred our  deposite,  arranged  our  carts  which  had  been  left  here  on  the 
way  out,  and,  travelling  a few  miles  in  the  afternoon,  encamped  for  the 
night  at  the  ford  of  the  Platte. 

August  27. — At  midday  we  hailed  at  the  place  where  we  had  taken  din- 
ner on  the  27th  of  July.  The  country  which,  when  we  passed  up,  looked 
as  if  the  hard  winter  frosts  had  passed  over  it,  had  now  assumed  a new 
face,  so  much  of  vernal  freshness  had  been  given  to  it  by  the  late  rains. 
The  Platte  was  exceedingly  low — a mere  line  of  water  among  the  sand- 
bars. We  reached  Laramie  fort  on  the  last  day  of  August,  after  an  ab- 
sence of  forty-two  days,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  find  our  friends  all  well. 
The  fortieth  day  had  been  fixed  for  our  return  ; and  the  quick  eyes  of  the 
Indians,  who  were  on  the  lookout  for  us,  discovered  our  flag  as  we  wound 
among  the  hills.  The  fort  saluted  us  with  repeated  discharges  of  its  single 
piece,  which  we  returned  with  scattered  volleys  of  our  small  arms,  and  felt 
the  joy  of  a home  reception  in  getting  back  to  this  remote  station,  which 
seemed  so  far  off  as  we  went  out. 

On  the  morning  of  the  3d  of  September  we  bade  adieu  to  our  kind  friends 
at  the  fort,  and  continued  our  homeward  journey  down  the  Platte,  which 
was  glorious  with  the  autumnal  splendor  of  innumerable  flowers  in  full  and 
brilliant  bloom.  On  the  warm  sands,  among  the  helianthi , one  of  the 
characteristic  plants,  we  saw  great  numbers  of  rattlesnakes,  of  which  five 
or  six  were  killed  in  the  morning’s  ride.  We  occupied  ourselves  in  im- 
proving our  previous  survey  of  the  river ; and,  as  the  weather  was  fine, 
astronomical  observations  were  generally  made  at  night  and  at  noon. 

We  halted  for  a short  time  on  the  afternoon  of  the  5th  with  a village  of 
Sioux  Indians,  some  of  whose  chiefs  we  had  met  at  Laramie.  The  water 
in  the  Platte  was  extremely  low ; in  many  places,  the  large  expanse  of 
sands,  with  some  occasional  stunted  trees  on  the  banks,  gave  it  the  air  of 
the  seacoast;  the  bed  of  the  river  being  merely  a succession  of  sandbars, 
among  which  the  channel  was  divided  into  rivulets  a few  inches  deep. 
We  crossed  and  recrossed  with  our  carts  repeatedly  and  at  our  pleasure ; 
and,  whenever  an  obstruction  barred  our  way,  in  the  shape  of  precipitous 
bluffs  that  came  down  upon  the  river,  we  turned  directly  into  it,  and  made 
our  way  along  the  sandy  bed,  with  no  other  inconvenience  than  the  fre- 
quent quicksands,,  which  greatly  fatigued  our  animals.  Disinterring  on  the 
way  the  cache  which  had  been  made  by  our  party  when  they  ascended  the 
river,  we  reached  without  accident,  on  the  evening  of  the  12th  of  Septem- 
ber, our  old  encampment  of  the  2d  of  July,  at  the  junction  of  the  forks. 
Our  cache  of  the  barrel  of  pork  was  found  undisturbed,  and  proved  a sea* 


sonable  addition  to  our  stock  of  provisions.  At  this  place  I had  determined 
to  make  another  attempt  to  descend  the  Piatte  by  water,  and  accordingly  j 
spent  two  days  in  the  construction  of  a bull  boat.  Men  were  sent  out  on 
the  evening  of  our  arrival,  the  necessary  number  of  bulls  killed,  and  their 
skins  brought  to  the  camp.  Four  of  the  best  of  them  were  strongly  sewed 
together  with  buffalo  sinew,  and  stretched  over  a basket  frame  of  willow.  1 
The  seams  were  then  covered  with  ashes  and  tallow,  and  the  boat  left  ex- 
posed to  the  sun  for  the  greater  part  of  one  day,  which  was  sufficient  to 
dry  and  contract  the  skin,  and  make  the  whole  work  solid  and  strong.  It 
had  a rounded  bow,  was  eight  feet  long  and  five  broad,  and  drew  with 
four  men  about  four  inches  water.  On  the  morning  of  the  15th  we  em- 
barked in  our  hide  boat,  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself,  with  two  men.  We 
dragged  her  over  the  sands  for  three  or  four  miles,  and  then  left  her  on  a 
bar,  and  abandoned  entirely  all  further  attempts  to  navigate  this  river.  The 
names  given  by  the  Indians  are  always  remarkably  appropriate;  and  cer- 
tainly none  was  ever  more  so  than  that  which  they  have  given  to  this 
stream — “the  Nebraska,  or  Shallow  river.”  Walking  steadily  the  remain- 
der of  the  day,  a little  before  dark  we  overtook  our  people  at  their  even- 
ing camp,  about  twenty-one  miles  below  the  junction.  The  next  morning 
we  crossed  the  Platte,  and  continued  our  way  down  the  river  bottom  on 
the  left  bank,  where  we  found  an  excellent  plainly  beaten  road. 

On  the  18th  we  reached  Grand  island,  which  is  fifty-two  miles  long,  with 
an  average  breadth  of  one  mile  and  three-quarters.  It  has  on  it  some  small 
eminences,  and  is  sufficiently  elevated  to  be  secure  from  the  annual  floods 
of  the  river.  As  has  been  already  remarked,  it  is  well  timbered,  with  an 
excellent  soil,  and  recommends  itself  to  notice  as  the  best  point  for  a mili- 
tary position  on  the  Lower  Piatte. 

On  the  22d  we  arrived  at  the  village  of  the  Grand  Pawnees,  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  river,  about  thirty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  Loup  fork. 
They  were  gathering  in  their  corn,  and  we  obtained  from  them  a very  wel- 
come supply  of  vegetables. 

The  morning  of  the  24th  we  reached  the  Loup  fork  of  the  Platte.  At 
the  place  where  we  forded  it,  this  stream  was  lour  hundred  and  thirty 
yards  broad,  with  a swift  current  of  clear  water  ; in  this  respect,  differing 
from  the  Platte,  which  has  a yellow  muddy  color,  derived  from  the  lime- 
stone.and  marl  formation,  of  which  we  have  previously  spoken.  The  ford 
was  difficult,  as  the  water  was  so  deep  that  it  came  into  the  body  of  the 
carts,  and  we  reached  the  opposite  bank  after  repeated  attempts,  ascending 
and  descending  the  bed  of  the  river  in  order  to  avail  ourselves  of  the  bars. 
We  encamped  on  the  left  bank  of  the  fork,  in  the  point  of  land  at  its  junc- 
tion with  the  Platte.  During  the  two  days  that  we  remained  here  for 
astronomical  observations,  the  bad  weather  permitted  us  to  obtain  but  one 
good  observation  for  the  latitude — a meridian  altitude  of  the  sun,  which 
gave  for  the  latitude  of  the  mouth  of  the  Loup  fork,  41°  22 ' 11". 

Five  or  six  days  previously,  I had  sent  forward  C.  Lambert,  with  two  men, 
to  Bellevue,  with  directions  to  ask  from  Mr.  P.  Sarpy  the  gentleman  in  charge 
of  the  American  Company’s  establishment  at  that  place,  the  aid  of  his  carpen- 
ters in  constructing  a boat,  in  which  I proposed  to  descend  the  Missouri.  On 
the  afternoon  of  the  27th  we  met  one  of  the  men,  who  had  been  despatched 
by  Mr.  Sarpy  with  a welcome  supply  of  provisions  and  a very  kind  note, 
which  gave  us  the  very  gratifying  intelligence  that  our  boat  was  in  rapid! 
progress.  On  the  evening  of  the  30th  we  encamped  hi  an  almost  impene- 


79 


[ 174  ] 

trable  undergrowth  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Platte,  in  the  point  of  land  at  its 
confluence  with  the  Missouri — three  hundred  and  fifteen  miles,  according 
to  our  reckoning,  from  the  junction  of  the  forks,  and  five  hundred  and 
twenty  from  Fort  Laramie. 

From  the  junction  we  had  found  the  bed  of  the  Platte  occupied  with  nu- 
merous islands,  many  of  them  very  large,  and  all  well  timbered  ; possess- 
ing, as  well  as  the  bottom  lands  of  the  river,  a very  excellent  soil.  With 
the  exception  of  some  scattered  groves  on  the  banks,  the  bottoms  are  gen- 
erally without  timber,  A portion  of  these  consist  of  low  grounds,  covered 
with  a profusion  of  fine  grasses,  and  are  probably  inundated  in  the  spring; 
the  remaining  part  is  high  river  prairie,  entirely  beyond  the  influence  of 
the  floods.  The  breadth  of  the  river  is  usually  three-quarters  of  a mile, 
except  where  it  is  enlarged  by  islands.  That  poriion  of  its  course  which 
is  occupied  by  Grand  island  has  an  average  breadth,  from  shore  to  shore, 
of  two  and  a half  miles.  The  breadth  of  the  valley,  with  the  various  ac- 
cidents of  ground — springs,  timber,  and  whatever  I have  thought  interest- 
ing to  travellers  and  settlers — you  will  find  indicated  on  the  larger  map 
which  accompanies  this  report. 

October  3. — I rose  this  morning  long  before  daylight,  and  heard  with  a 
feeling  of  pleasure  the  tinkling  of  cow  bells  at  the  settlements  on  the  op- 
posite side  of  the  Missouri.  Early  in  the  day  we  reached  Mr.  Sarpy’s 
residence;  and,  in  the  security  and  comfort  of  his  hospitable  mansion,  felt 
the  pleasure  of  being  again  within  the  pale  of  civilization.  We  found  our 
boat  on  the  stocks  ; a few  days  sufficed  to  complete  her ; and,  in  the  af- 
ternoon of  the  4th,  we  embarked  on  the  Missouri.  All  our  equipage — > 
horses,  carts,  and  the  materiel  of  the  camp — had  been  sold  at  public  auc- 
tion at  Bellevue.  The  strength  of  my  party  enabled  me  to  man  the  boat 
with  ten  oars,  relieved  every  hour;  and  we  descended  rapidly.  Early  on 
the  morning  of  the  10th,  we  halted  to  make  some  astronomical  observa- 
tions at  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  exactly  four  months  since  we  had  left 
the  trading  post  of  Mr.  Cyprian  Chouteau,  on  the  same  river,  ten  miles 
above.  On  our  descent  to  this  place,  we  had  employed  ourselves  in  sur- 
veying and  sketching  the  Missouri,  making  astronomical  observations  reg- 
ularly at  night  and  at  midday,  whenever  the  weather  permitted.  These 
operations  on  the  river  were  continued  until  our  arrival  at  the  city  of  St. 
Louis,  Missouri,  on  the  17th;  and  will  be  found,  unbodied  with  other  re- 
sults, on  the  map  and  in  the  appendices  which  accompany  this  report.  At 
St.  Louis,  the  sale  of  our  remaining  effects  was  m ide;  and,  leaving  that 
city  by  steamboat  on  the  1 Sth , I had  the  honor  to  report  to  you  at  the  city 
of  Washington  on  the  29th  of  October. 

Very  respectfully,  sir,  your  obedient  servant, 

J.  C.  FREMONT, 

2d  Lieut,  Corps  of  Topographical  Engineers . 


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CATALOGUE  OF  PLANTS 

COLLECTED 

BY  LIEUTENANT  FREMONT, 

IN  HIS 

EXPEDITION  TO  THE  EOCKY  MOUNTAINS. 

BY  JOHN  TORREY. 


# 


PREFACE 


The  collection  of  plants  submitted  to  me  for  examination,  though  made  under  unfavorable 
circumstances,  is  a very  interesting  contribution  to  North  American  botany.  From  the  mouth  of 
the  Kansas  river  to  the  “ Red  Buttes,  ” on  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  the  transportation  was 
effected  in  carts  ; but  from  that  place  to  and  from  the  mountains,  the  explorations  were  made  on 
horseback,  and  by  such  rapid  movements,  (which  were  necessary,  in  order  to  accomplish  the  objects 
of  tile  expedition,)  that  but  little  opportunity  was  afforded  for  collecting  and  drying  botanical  speci- 
mens. Besides,  the  party  was  in  a savage  and  inhospitable  country,  sometimes  annoyed  by  Indians, 
and  frequently  in  great  distress  from  want  of  provisions  ; from  which  circumstances,  and  the  many 
pressing,  duties  that  constantly  engaged  the  attention  of  the  commander,  he  was  not  able  to  make  so 
large  a collection  as  he  desired.  To  give  some  general  idea  of  the  country  explored  by  Lieutenant 
Frempnt,  I recapitulate,  from  his  report,  a brief  sketch  of  his  route.  The  expedition  left  the  mouth  of 
the  Kansas  on  the  10th  of  June,  1842,  and,  proceeding  up  that  river  about  one  hundred  miles,  then 
continued ‘its  course  generally  along  the  “ bottoms”  of  the  Kansas  tributaries,  but  sometimes  passing 
over  the  upper  prairies.  The  soil  of  the  river  bottoms  is  always  rich,  and  generally  well  timbered  ? 
though  the  whole  region  is  what  is  called  a prairie  country.  The  upper  prairies  are  an  immense 
deposite  of  sand  and  gravel,  covered  with*  a good,  and,  very  generally,  a rich  soil.  Along  the  road, 
on  reaching  the  little  stream  called  Sandy  creek,  (a  tributary  of  the  Kansas,)  the  soil  became  more 
sandy.  The  rock  formations  of  this  region  are  limestone  and  sandstone.  The  amqrphq  canescens 
was  the  characteristic  plant ; it  being  in  many  places  as  abundant  as  the  grass. 

Crossing  over  fronj  the  waters  of  the  Kansas,  Lieutenant  Fremont  arrived  at  the  Great  Platte, 
two  hundred  and  ten  miles  from  its  junction  with  the  Missouri.  The  valley  of  this  river,  from  its 
mouth  to  the  great  forks,  is  about  four  miles  broad,  and  three  hundred  and  fifteen  miles  long.  It 
is  rich,  well  timbered,  and  covered  with  luxuriant  grasses.  The  purple  liatris  scariosa , and  several 
asters , were  here  conspicuous  features  of  the  vegetation.  I was  pleased  to  recognise,  among  the 
specimens  collected  near  the  forks,  the  fiii| , large-flowered  asclepias,  that  I described  many  years 
ago  in  my  account  of  James’s  Rocky  Mountain  Plants,  under  the  name  of  A.  speciosa,  and  which 
Mr.  Geycr  also  found  in  Nicollet’s  expedition.  It  seems  to  be  the  plant  subsequently  described  and 
figured  by  Sir  W.  Hooker,  tinder  the  name  of  A.  Douglasii.  On  the  Lower  Platte,  and  all  the 
way  to  the  Sweet  Water,  the  showy  cleome  iniegrifolia  occurred  in  abundance.  From  the  Forks 
to  Laramie  river,  a distance  of  about  two  hundred  miles,  the  country  may  be  called  a sandy  one. 
The  valley  of  the  North  fork  is  without  timber  ; but  the  grasses  are  fine,  «nd  the  herbaceous  plants 
abundant.  On  the  return  of  the  expedition  in  September,  Lieutenant  Fremont  says  the  whole 
country  resembled,  a vast  garden  5 but  the  prevailing  plants  were  two  or  three  species  of  helianthus , 
(sunflower.)  Between  the  main  forks  of  the  Platte,  from  the  junction,  as  high  up  as  Laramie’s 
fork,  the  formation  consisted  of  marl,  a soft  earthy  limestone,  and  a granite  sandstone.  At  the 
latter  place,  that  singular  leguminous  plant,  the  kentrophyta  raontana  of  Nuttall  was  first  seen, 
and  then  occurred  at  intervals  to  the  Sweet  Water  river.  Following  up  the  North  fork,  Lieutenant 
Fremont  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water  river,  one  of  the  head  waters  of  the  Platte. 
Above  Laramie’s  fork  to  this  place,  the  soil  is  generally  sandy.  The  rocks  consist  of  limestone, 
I with  a variety  of  sandstones,  (yellow,  gray,  and  red  argillaceous,)  with  compact  gypsum  or  alabas- 
ter, and  fine  conglomerates. 


84 


[ 174  ] 

The  route  along  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte  afforded  some  of  the  best  plants  in  the  collection. 
The  senecio  rapi folia,  Nutt.,  occurred  in  many  places,  quite  to  the  Sweet  Water  ; lippia  ( zapania ) 
cuneifolia  (Torr.  in  James’s  plants,  only  known  before  from  Dr.  James’s  collection ;)  ctr  cocarp  us par- 
vifolius , Nutt.  ; eriogonum  parvifulium,  and  coespitosum , Nutt.;  shepherdia  argentca,  Nutt., 
and  geranium  Fremontii , a new  species,  (near  the  Red  Buttes,)  were  found  in  this  part  of  the 
journey.  In  saline  soils,  on  the  Upper  Platte,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water,  were  collected 
several  interesting  Chenofodiace®,  One  of  which  was  first  discovered  by  Dr.  James,  in  Long’s 
expedition  ; and  although  it  was  considered  as  a new  genus,  I did  not  describe  it,  owing  to  the  want 
of  the  ripe  fruit.  It  is  the  plant  doubtfully  referred  by  Hooker,  in  his  Flora  Boreali  Americana, 
to  Batis  He  had  seen  the  male  flowers  only.  As  it  is  certainly  a new  genus,  I have  dedicated  it 
to  the  excellent  commander  of  the  expedition,  as  a well-merited  compliment  for  the  services  he  has 
rendered  North  American  botany. 

The  Sweet  Water  valley  is  a sandy  plain,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  long,  and  gen- 
erally abput  five  miles  broad  ; bounded  by  ranges  of  granitic  mountains,  between  which  the  valley 
formation  consists,  near  the  Devil’s  gate,  of  ^ grayish  micaceous  sandstone,  with  marl  and  white 
clay.  At  the  encampment  of  August  5th- 6th,  there  occurred  h fine  white  argillaceous  sandstone, 
a coarse  sandstone  or  pudding-stone,  and  a white  calcareous  sandstone.  A few  miles  to  the  west 
of  that  position.  Lieutenant  Fremont  reached  a point  where  the  sandstone  rested  immediately  upon 
the  granite,  which,  thenceforward,  along  his  line  of  route,  alternated  with  a compact  mica  slate. 

Along  the  Sweet  Water,  many  interesting  plants  were  collected,  as  may  be  seen  by  an  examina- 
tion of  the  catalogue  ; I would,  however,  mention  the  curious  cenothera  Nuttallii , Torr.  and  Gr.  ; 
eurotiu  lunata,  Mocq.  ; (Diotis  lanata,  Pursh  ,)  which  seems  to  be  distinct  from  E.  ceratoides ; 
thermopsis  montana,  Nutt.  ; gilia  pulchella,  Dougl.  ; senecio  spartioides,  Torr.  and  Gr.  ; a new 
species,  and  four  or  five  species  of  wild  currants,  ( [ribes  irriguum,  Dougl.,  &c  ) Near  the  mouth 
of  the  Sweet  Water  was  found  the  plantago  eriophora , Torr.,  a species  first  described  in  my  Dr. 
James’s  Rocky  Mountain  Plants.  On  the  upper  part,  and  near  the  dividing  ridge,  were  collected 
several  species  of  castilleja penistemon  micrautha,  Nutt.;  several  gentians the  pretty  little 
androsace  occidentals,  Nutt.  ; solidago  incana,  Torr,  and  Gr.  ; and  two  species  of  eriogonum , 
one  of  which  was  new. 

On  the  8th  of  August,  the  exploring  party  crossed  the  dividing  ridge  or  pass*  and  found  the  soil 
of  the  plains  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  on  the  western  side,  to  be  sandy.  From  Laramie’s  fork 
to  this  point,  different  species  of  artemisia  were  the  prevailing  and  characteristic  plants  ; occupying 
the  place  of  the  grasses,  and  filling  the  air  with  the  odor  of  camphor  and  turpentine.  Along  Little 
Sandy,  a tributary  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West,  were  collected  a new  species  o f'pkaca  ( P.  digi- 
iata, ) and  parnassia  Jinibriata.  • 

On  the  morning  of  the  10th  of  August,  they  entered  the  defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains,  a 
spur  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  or  northern  Andes,  and  among  which  they  spent  about  eight  days. 
On  the  borders  of  a lake,  embosomed  in  one  of  the  defiles,  were  collected  sedum  rhodiola , DC., 
(which  had  been  found  before,  south  of  Kotzebue’s  sound,  only  by  Dr.  James  ;)  senecio  hydrophi- 
lus,  Nutt:  ; Vaccinium  uliginosum ; beiula  glandulosa,  and  B.  accident  alls,  Hook.;  eleagnus 
argentea , and  shepherdia  Canadensis.  Some  of  the  higher  peaks  of  the  Wind  river  mountains 
rise  one  thousand  feet  above  the  limits  of  perpetual  snow.  Lieutenant  Fremont,  attended  by  four 
of  his  men,  ascended  one  of  the  loftiest  peaks  on  the  15th  of  August.  On  this  he  found  the  snow 
line  twelve  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  vegetation  of  the  mountains 
is  truly  alpine,  embracing  a considerable  number  of  species  common  to  both  hemispheres,  as  well 
as  some  that  are  peculiar  to  North  America.  Of  the  former,  Lieutenant  Fremont  collected  pleura 
alpinutn  ; oxyriareniformis ; Veronica  alpina  ; several  species  of  salix ; carexatrata ; C.  panicea,* 
and,  immediately  below  the  line  of  perpetual  congelation,  silent  acaulis,  and  polemonium  ceeruleum , 

/?  Hook  Among  the  alpine  plants  peculiar  to  the  western  hemisphere,  there  were  found  oreophila 
myrtifolia,  Nutt.  ; aquihgia  coerulea , Torr.  ; pedicu/aris  surrccta,  Benth.  ; pulmonaria  ciliaia, 
James  ; silene  Brummondii,  Hook.  ; menziesia  empetriformis,  potentilla  gracilis , Dougl.  ; sev« 


85 


[ 174  ] 

eral  species  oipinus;  frasera  speciosa , Hook.  ; dodecatheon  den  latum , ITook.  ^ phlox  muscoides , 
Nutt.  ; senecio  Fremontii , n.  sp.,  Torr.  and  Gr.  ; four  or  five  asters,  and  vaccinium  myrtilloides , 
Mx.  ; the  last  seven  or  eight  very  near  the  snow  line.  Lower  down  the  mountain  were  found 
arnica  angustifolia , Vahl.  ; senecio  triangularis.  Hook.  • S.  subnudus,  DC.  ; macrorhynchus 
troximoides , Torr.  and  Gr.  ; helianthella  uni/loray  Torr.  and  Gr.  ; and  linosyris  viscidijlora. 
Hook. 

The  expedition  left  the  Wind  river  mountains  about  the  18th  of  August,  returning  by  the  same 
route  as  that  by  which  it  ascended,  except  that  it  continued  its  course  through  the  whole  length  of 
the  Lower  Platte,  arriving  at  its  junction  with  the  Missouri  on  the  1st  of  October. 

As  the  plants  of  Lieutenant  Fremont  were  under  examination  while  the  last  part  of  the  Flora  of 
Nt>rth  America  was  in  the  press,  nearly  all  the  new  matter  relating  to  the  Composite  was  inserted 
in  that  work.  Descriptions  of  a few  of  the  new  species  were  necessarily  omitted,  owing  to  the 
report  of  the  expedition  having  been  called  for  by  Congress  before  I could  finish  the  necessary  analyses 
and  comparisons.  These,  however,  will  be  inserted  in  the  successive  numbers  of  the. work  to 
which  I have  just  alluded. 

JOHN  TORREY. 

New  Yohk,  March , 1843. 


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— 


CATALOGUE  OF  PLANTS. 


Class  I.— EXOGENOUS  PLANTS. 

RAlJUN  C UL  ACE^E . 

Clematis  Virginiana,  (Linn.)  Valley  of  the  Platte.  June,  July. 

Ranunculus  sceleratus , (Linn.)  Valley  of  the  Sweet  Water  river.  August  18-20. 

cymbalaria , (Pursh.)  Upper  Platte.  July  31,  August. 

Aquilegia  coerulea,  (Torr. ) Wind  river  mountains*  August  13-16. 

Act cea  rubra,  ( Bigel.)  Upper  Platte.  August  26-31. 

Thalictrum  Comuti , (Linn.)  Platte. 

T%  megacarpym , n.  sp.  Upper  Platte.  August  26-31. 

MENISPERM  ACEJ3 . 

Menispermum  Canadense , (Linn.)  Leaves  only.  On  the  Platte. 

BERBERIDACE^E. 

Berberis  aquifolium,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-16. 

PAPAVERACE.E. 

Argemone  Mexicana  (3  albijlora , (DC.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

CRUCIFER.E. 

Nasturtium  palustre,  (DC.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  26,  August. 

Erysimum  cheiranthoides,  (Linn.)  Black  hills.  July  23. 

E.  asperum,  (Nutt.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  4. 

Pachypodium,  ( Thely podium,  Endl.  Gen.  p.  876,)  integrifolium , (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the 
Platte.  September  4.  Var.  with  longer  pods.  With  the  preceding. 

Vesicaria  didymocarpa , (Hook.)  Leaves  only.  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  above  the  Red  Buttes. 
July  30. 

Braya,  n.  sp.  Wind  river  mountains,  near  the  limits  of  perpetual  snow.  August  15. 

Lepidium  ruderale,  (Linn.)  On  the  Platte.  June  29. 

CAPPARIDACEiE. 

Cleomp  integrifolia,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  From  the  Lower  Platte  nearly  to  the  mountains.  June  29, 
July  2,  August  21. 

Polanisia  trachysperma , /?  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  23. 

POLYGALACE.E. 

Poly  gala  alba,  (Nutt.)  P.  Beyrichii,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

DROSERACEJ3. 

Pamassiajimbriata,  (Banks.)  Little  Sandy  creek,  defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  8. 

CARYOPHYLLACEjE. 

Arenavia  congesta , (Nutt.)  Highest  parts  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-16. 

Silene  Drummondii,  (Hook.)  With  the  preceding. 

5.  acaulis,  (Linn.)  Wind  river  mountains,  at  the  limits  of  perpetual  snow. 


[ 174  ] 


88 


. PORTULACACE.E. 

*Talinum  parviflorum,  (Nutt.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  26 

LINACE.E.  * 

Linum  rigidum,  (Pursh.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  8. 

L.  pertnne,  (Linn.)  Black  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte.  August  2-31, 

GERANIACEiE. 

Geranium  Fremontii , n.  sp.  Black  hills.  August  26-31. 

OXALIDACEJ3. 

Oxalis  strict ay  (Linn.)  On  the  Kansas.  June.  * • 

ANACARDIACE-E. 

Mhus  trilobata,  (Nutt.)  Red  Buttes.  July  29. 

MA*LVACE/E. 

Malva  pedata,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  21. 

M.  involucrata,  (Torr.  and  Gr  ) Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  23. 

Sida  coccinea , (DC.)  Little  Blue  river  to  the  south  fork  of  the  Platte.  June  22,  July  4. 

VITACEJE. 

Yttis  ripariay  (Michx.)  Grand  island  of  the  Platte.  September  19. 

ACERACEiE. 

Negundo  aceroides,  (Mcench. ) On  the  lower  part  of  the  Platte. 

CELASTRACEiE. 

Oreophila  my  rti folia,  (Nutt.)  Summit  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-14. 

RHAMNACEJ3. 

Ceanothus  velutinus,  (Dougl.)  With  the  preceding. 

C.  Americanus,  var.  sanguineus.  C.  sanguineus,  (Pursh.)  On  the  Platte. 

C.  mollissimus , n.  sp.  Near  the  Kansas  river.  June  19. 

LEGUMINOS^E. 

Lathyrus  linearis , (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte,  from  its  confluence  with  the  Missouri  to  Fort  Laramie. 
September  2-30. 

Amphicarpoea  monoica,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  September  4. 

Apios  tuberosa,  (Mcench. ) Forks  of  the  Platte.  September  1 3. 

Glycyrhiza  lepidota,  (Pursh.)  From  near  the  Kansas  river  to  the  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  June 
21,  July  25. 

Tsoralea  Jloribunda , (Nutt.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

P.  campestris , (Nutt.  ?)  and  a more  glabrous  variety.  With  the  preceding.  July  2. 

P.  lanceolata , (Pursh.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  24. 

P.  argophyllas  (Pursh.)  Little  Blue  river.  June  23. 

P.  tenuijioray  (Pursh.)  (no  flowers.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  September  12. 

Petalostemon  violaceum , (Michx.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas,  &c.  June  21. 

P.  candidurn , (Michx.)  Red  Buttes.  July  29. 

Amorpha fruticosa,  (Linn.)  From  the  Lower  Platte  to  the  mountains.  August  8,  September  19* 
A.  canescensy  (Nutt.)  Kansas  and  Lower  Platte  rivers.  June  19,  September  20. 

Lespedeza  capitata , (Michx. ) Mouth  of  the  Platte.  September  30. 

JDesm odium  acuminatum,  (DC.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  22. 


89 


C 174  3 


Astragalus  gracilis,  (Nutt.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

A.  moll  ssirnus,  (Torr.)  Valley  of  the  Platte.  June  29. 

A.  hypoglotlis,  (Linn.)  Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte.  August  5. 

Oxytropis  Lambertii , (Pursh.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas  to  the  forks  of  the  Platte.  June 
20,  July  2. 

O.  Plattensis,  (Nutt  ?)  (no  flowers.)  Goat  island  of  the  Upper  Platte.  July  31. 

Phaca  astragulina,  (DC.)  Highest  summits  of  the  Wind  river  mountain.  August  15. 

P.  elegans,  (Hook.)  var.  ? Goat  island  of  the  Upper  Platte.  July  31. 

P.  ( Orophuca ) digiluta,  n.  sp.  Little  Sandy  river.  August  8. 

P.  longifolia , (Nutt.)  (leaves  only.)  Wind  river  mountains.  August  12-17. 

Kentrophyta  mo"tana,  (Nutt.)  Laramie  river  to  the  Sweet  Water.  July  14,  August  5. 

Lup  nus  leucophyllus,  (Lindl.)  Wind  river  mountains,  and  Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte.  August 
4-21. 

.<L  &rnatus,  (Dougl.)  L.  leucopsis,  (Agardh.)  With  the  preceding. 

Bapfisia  leucantha,  (Torr.  andGr.)  Kansas  river. 

Thermopsis  montana,  (Nutt.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Augusts. 

C ssia chamcecrista,  (Linn.)  Mouth  of  the  Platte.  September  30. 

Schrankia  uncinala,  (Willd.)  Kansas  and  Platte  rivers.  June  19,  September. 

Darlingtonia  brachypoda,  (DC.)  On  the  Platte.  September  17. 

ROSACEA. 

Cerasus  Virginiana , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Upper  north  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  30. 

Cercocarpus  parvifolius,  (Nutt.)  Bitter  creek,  north  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  22. 

Purshia  tridentata,  (DC.)  Sweet  Water  river,  &c.  August  12,  September. 

Geum  Virginianum , (Linn.)  Kansas  river.  June  20. 

Sibbaldia procumbens,  (Linn.)  Wind  river  mountains,  near  perpetual  snow.  August  13-14„ 
PutentiUa  gracilis,  (Dougl.)  With  the  preceding. 

P.  diversi folia , (Lehm. ) Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte  to  the  mountains.  August  4-15. 

P . sertcea,  0 glabrata,  (Lehm. ) With  the  preceding. 

P.fruticosa , (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

P . anserina , (Linn.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  26-31. 

P.  arguta,  (Pursh.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas,  and  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  June  23, 
August  28. 

Rubus  strigosus,  (Michx.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  12-17. 

Amelanchier  diversi  folia,  var.  alni folia,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte.  August  5„ 
Rosablanda,  ( Ait.)  Lower  Platte. 

P.  foliolosa,  (Nutt.)  var.  leiocarpa.  With  the  preceding. 

ONAGRACEiE. 

Epilobium  coloratum,  (Muhl.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte  to  the  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  4-3JU 
E.  spicatum , (Lam.)  From  the  Red  Buttes  to  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-31. 
(Eaotheru  albicaulis,  (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  14. 

Missouriensis , (Sims.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  19-20. 

(E.  trichocalyx,  (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  30. 

(E.  serrulata , (Nutt.)  On  the  Kansas  and  Platte.  June,  July  14. 

(E.  rhombibetula,  (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte.  September  18-20. 

(E.  biennis , (Linn.)  Black  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water  river.  July  23,  August  4. 

(E.  ( Taraxia ) Nuttallii , (Torr.  andGr.)  Uppe^part  of  the  Sweet  Water, 

(E.  speciosa , (Nutt  ) Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  19-20. 

(E.  Drummondii , (Hook.  1)  Black  hills.  July  26. 

Gaura  cocclnca , (Nutt.)  Var.  ? Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas,  and  south  fork  of  the  Platte. 
June  26,  July  4. 


[ 174  ] 


90 


LOASACE.E. 

Mcnt zelia  nude,  (Torn  and  Gr.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  14. 

GROSSUL  ACE/E. 

Ribes  cereum , (Lindl. ) Sweet  Water  of  the  Platte.  August  2-4. 

R.  laeustre , (Pbir.)  With  the  preceding.  $ leaves  deeply  lobed.  R.  echinatum,  “(DiragL)  Per- 
haps a distinct  species. 

R.  irriguum,  (Dougl.)  With  the  preceding. 

CACTACE.E. 

GpUntia  'Mi&ouriensis,  (i)C.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

CRASSULACE.E.  # 

Sedum  rhodiola,  (DC.)  On  a lake  in  Wind  river  mountains.  August  12-17. 

UMBELLIFERJE . 

Heracleum  lanatum,  (Michx.  ?)  Leaves  only.  The  leaves  are  more  glabrous  than  in  the  ordinary 
form  of  the  plant.  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 

Folytoenia  Nuttallii,  (DC.)  On  the  Kansas.  June  20. 

Siwn  ? incisum , n.  sp.  Stem  sulcate;  segments  of  the  leaves  distant,  deeply  incised  or  pinnatified; 

the  lower  teeth  or  divisions  dften  elongated  and  Iindar.  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  12. 
Edosmia  Gardineri,  (Torr.  andGr.  ) Without  fruit. 

Cicuta  mactilata,  (Litln.)  Lower  Pltitte. 

Musenium  tenuifolium,  (Nutt.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 

CORN  ACE  JB. 

Cornus  Utoldnifera,  (Michx.)  On  a hike  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  12-17. 

■C.  circinata , (L’Her.)  On  the  Platte. 

CAPRIFOLIACEJE. 

Eymphoricarpus  occidentals,  (R.  Brown.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  10,  August  31. 

8.  vulgaris,  (Michx.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-14. 

RUBIACEJB. 

'Galium  boredle,  (Linn.)  Upper  part  of  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  August  12-31. 

COMPOSITE. 

Vemoniafasciculata , (Michx.)  On  the  Platte. 

Liatris  scariosa,  (Willd.)  Lower  part  of  the  Platte.  September  27. 

slpicata,  (Willd.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  September  4. 

Z#.  squarrosa,  Var.  intermedia,  (DC.)  A small  form  of  the  plant.  On  the  Platte, 

L.  punctata,  (Hook. ) Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  August  29. 

Brickellia  grandi  flora,  (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte. 

Aster  integrifulius,  (Nutt.)  Base  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  • 

A.  adscendens,  (Lindl.)  Wind  river  mountains.  Var.  Fremontii,  with  the  preceding.  The 
highest  summits  to  the  limits  of  perpetual  snow.  August  16. 

A.  laevis,  (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte. 

A.  Novi-Be/gii,  (Linn.)  Sweet  Water  of  t\&  Platte.  Aiigust  22. 

, A.  cordifolius,  (Linn.)  Lower  Platte. 

A.  multijlorus , /?  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Upper  Platte,  &c. 

A.falcatus,  (Lindl.)  Black  hills  to  the  Sweet  Water.  July  30,  August. 

A.  laxifolius,  (Nees.)  On  the  Platte,  from  its  mouth  to  the  forks.  September  12-30. 


91 


[ 174  ] 


A.  oblongifolius , (Nutt.)  Lower  Platte,  &c. 

A.  Novae- Angliae,  (Linn.)  Lower  Platte  to  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  18-Sept.  24. 

A.  andinus , (Nutt.)  Near  the  snow  line  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  16. 

A.  glacialis,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

A.  suhuginosus,  (Richards.)  With  the  .preceding. 

A.  elegans,  (Torr.  and  Gr. ) Wind  river  mountains. 

A.  glaucus,  (Torr.  andGr.)  With  the  preceding. 

Dieteria  viscosa,  (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte. 

D-  cor  onopi folia,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

j D.  pulverulenta,  (Nutt.)  Near  D.  sessiliflora.  With  the  preceding. 

Erigeron  Canudense,  (Linn.)  On  the  Platte,  from  near  its  mouth  to  the  Red  Buttes.  Latter 
part  of  September  to  July  30. 

E.  bellidiastrum , (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte. 

E.  macranthum , (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

E.  glabellum,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

E.strigosum,  (Muhl.)  With  the  preceding. 

Guiierrezia  euthamias,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Laramie  river,  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  Sept  3. 
Solidago  rigidity  (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte. 

S.  Missouriensis,  (Nutt.)  Fort  Laramie,  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  22,  to  the  mountains. 

A.  speciosa , (Nutt.)  Upper  Platte. 

S.  virga-aureOy  (Linn.)  var.  multiradiato , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Wind  river  mountain,  from  the 
height  of  7,000  feet  to  perpetual  snow. 

S.  incana,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Sweet  Water  river. 

S.  gigantea , (Linn.)  var.  (3.  From  the  Platte  to  the  mountains. 

Linosyris  graveolcns,  (Torr.  and  Gr. ) Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  20. 

L.  viscidt flora,  (Hook  ) Upper  Platte. 

Aplopappus  spinulosus,  (DC.)  Fort  Laramie,  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  Sept.  3. 

Grindelia  squarrosa , (Dunal.)  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  and  on  the  Sweet  Water.  July 
22- Aug.  21. 

Chrysopsis  liispida , (Hook.)  On  the  Rlalte. 

C.  mollis,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding.  Too  near  C.fdlioso,  (Ntitt.) 

Iva  axillaris,  (Pursh.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  3. 

Franseria  discolor,  (Nutt.)  Near  the  Wind  river  mountains. 

Lepachys  columnaris , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  26. 
Balsamorrhiza  sagittatn,  (Nutt. ) Wind  river  mountains.  • 

Helianthus  petiolaris,  ( Nutt. ) Black  lulls  of  the  Platte.  July  26. 

H.  Maximilian i,  (Schrad.)  With  the  preceding. 

HeliantheUa  unijlora , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Wind  river  mountains. 

Coreopsis  tindoria,  (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte. 

Cosmidium  gi'acile,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Upper  Platte. 

Bidens  connala,  (Muhl.)  With  the  preceding. 

Hymenopappus  corirhbosus , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  With  the  preceding. 

Actinella  grand) flora,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  n.  sp.  Wind  fiver  mountains. 

Achillea  millefolium,  (Linn.)  A lanosa,  (Nutt.)  Upper  Platte  to  the  mountains. 

Artemisia  biennis,  (Willd.)  On  the  Platte. 

A.  cana,  (Pursh.)  Without  flowers.  With  the  preceding. 

A.  trident ata,  (Nutt.)  On  the  Sweet  Water,  near  the  mountains. 

A.  fil folia,  (Torr.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte,  and  North  fork,  to  Laramie  river.  July  4-Sept.  3. 
A.  Canadensis , (Michx.)  With  the  preceding. 

A.  Ludoviciana,  (Nutt.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  26. 

Ai  frigiaa,  (Willd.)  Black  hills  to  the  mountains. 


[ 174  ] 92 

/ 

A.  Lewisii,  (Torr.  "and  Gr.  ?)  No  flowers.  On  the  Platte. 

Stephanomeria  runcinata,  (Nutt.)  Upper  Platte. 

Gnaphalium  uliginosum,  (Linn.)  Var.  foltix  ungustinribu*.  Sweet  Water  river. 

G.  palustre , (Nutt.)  j8.  (Ton.  and  Gr.)  With  the  preceding. 

Arnica  angustifolia,  (Yahl.)  A-  fulgens,  (Pursh.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains,  from, 
7,000  feet  and  upwards.  August  13-14. 

Senccio  triangularis , (Hook.)  (i.  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  With  the  preceding. 

S.  subnudus,  (DC.)  With  the  preceding. 

S.  Fremontii , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  n.  sp.  Highest  parts  of  the  mountains,  to  the  region  of  perpetual 
snow.  Aug.  15. 

S.  rapifolius,  (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte  and  Sweet  Water. 

S.  lanceolatus,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  n.  sp.  With  the  preceding. 

S.  hydrophtlus , (Nutt.)  On  a lake  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  12-17. 

S.  spartioides , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  n.  sp.  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  21. 

S.  Jilif alius,  (Nutt.)  /?  Fremontii,  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Lower  Platte. 

Cacali a tuberose,  (Nutt.)  Upper  Platte. 

Tetradymia  inermis , (Nutt  ) SweetWater  river,  from  its  mouth  to  the  highest  parts  of  the  Wind 
river  mountains. 

Cirsium  altissimum,  (Spreng.)  Lower  Platte. 

Crejfis  glauca,  (Hook.)  Upper  Platte. 

Macrorhynchus  ( stylopappus ) troximoides , (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 
Aug.  13-14. 

Mulgtdium  pulchellumy  (Torr.  and  Gr.)  Black  hills  of  the  Platte.  July  25  31. 

Lygodcsmia  juncea,  (Don.)  Upper  Platte. 

Troximon  parvijlorum,  (Nutt.)  SweetWater  river,  near  the  mountains. 

LOBELIACEiE. 

Lobelia  spicata,  (Lam.)  On  the  Lower  Platte.  June  28. 

L . siphilitica,  (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  Sept.  4. 

CAMPANULACEyE. 

Campanula  rotundifolia , (Linn. ) Lower  Platte. 

Specularia  amplexicaulus,  (DC.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas. 

ERICACEAE. 

Phyllodoce  empetriformis,  (D.  Don.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-16. 
Vaccinium  myrtilloides , (Hook.)  Wind  river  mountains,  in  the  vicinity  of  perpetual  snow. 
Aug.  15. 

V.  uliginosum,  (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

Artostaphylos  uva-ursi,  (Spreng.)  On  a lake  in  the  mountains.  Aug.  12-17. 

PRIMULACEJ3. 

Dodecatheon  dentatum,  (Hook.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-16. 

Androsace  occidentalism  (Nutt.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  5. 

Lysimachia  ciliaia , (Linn.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

Glaux  maritima , (Linn.)  Upper  Noith  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  31. 

SCROPHULARIACEiE. 

Orthocarpus  luteus,  (Nutt.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  5. 

Mimulus  alsinoides,  (Benth.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-16. 

M.  Lewisii,  (Pursh.)  With  the  preceding. 

Castilleja  pallida,  ( Kunth.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  8.  <| 


* 93  [ 174  ] 

, miniata,  (Benth.)  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-16.  There  are  two  or  three  other 
species  of  this  genus  in  the  collection,  which  I have  not  been  able  to  determine. 
trotiica  a/pinn  /?,  (Hook.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 
rntsfcmonalbidum,  (Nutt.)  Forks  of  thq»  Platte.  July  2. 

, coeruleum,  (NiAt.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  4. 

. micranthum , (Nutt  ) Sources  of  the  Sweet  Water,  near  the  mountains.  August  7. 

’ilicular/s surrecta,  (Benth.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-16. 
zrardia  longifulia,  (Nutt.)  Lower  Platte.  July  22. 

OROBANCHACE.E. 

■obanche  fasciculata , (Nutt.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  4. 

• I*\BIAT;E, 

>narda  Jidulosn , (Linn.)  On  the  Platte. 
lucrium  Canadense , (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 
ycnpus  sinuutus,  (Ell.)  With  the  preceding. 
achys  aspera,  (Michx. ) Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

Htellarin  golericuluta,  (Linn.)  North  of  the  Platte.  July  10. 
entha  Canadensis , (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

dvia  azurea , (Lam.)  Kansas  river  and  forks  of  the  Platte.  June  19-29,  July  2.  ijgjjt 

VERBENACE.E. 

ppia  cuneifolia,  Zapania  cuneifolia,  (Torr.,  in  Ann.  Lyc.  Nat.  Hist.  N.  York,  ii,  page  234.) 
North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  12. 

?rbena  siricta , (Vent  ) With  the  preceding. 

. hastatu,  (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

. bracteata,  (Michx.)  With  the. preceding. 

BORAGINACEiE. 

uhnonaria  ciliata , (James;  Torr.  in  Ann.  Lyc.  N.  York,  ii,  page  224.)  Defiles  in  the  Wind 

river  mountains.  August  13-15.  * 

nusmodium  rnulle,  (Michx.)  On  the  Platte.  June  29. 

atschia  Gntelmi , (Michx  ) Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  22, 

r.yi>sotis  glomerata,  (Nutt. ) Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

HYDROPHYLLACE.E. 

'"toca  sericea,  (Lehm.)  Wind  river  mountains. 

hacelia  leucophytla , n.  sp.  Whole  plant  strigosely  canescent;  leaves  elliptical,  petiolate  entire, 
racemes  numerous,  scorpioid,  densely  flowered. — Goat  island,  upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte. 
July  30.  Perennial. — Stems  branching  from  the  base.  Leaves  about  two  inches  long,  and  6 to 
8 lines  wide;  radical  and  lower  cauline  ones  on  long  petioles;  the  others  nearly  sessile.  Spikes 
forming  a terminal  crowded  sort  of  panicle.  Flowers  sessile,  about  3 lines  long.  Sepals 
strongly  hispid.  Corolla  one-third  longer  than  the  calyx;  the  lobes  short  and  entire.  Stamens 
much  exsertcd;  filaments  glabrous.  Style  2 parted  to  the  middle,  the  lower  part  hairy.  Ovary 
hispid,  incompletely  2-celled,  with  2 ovules  in  each  cell.  Capsule,  by  abortion,  one-seeded* 
seed  oblong,  strongly  punctate.  J Nearly  related  to  P.  integrifolia,  (Torr  ;)  but  differs  in  the 
leaves  being  perfectly  entire,  the  more  numerous  spikes,  one-seeded  capsules,  as  well  as  in  the 
whitish  strigose  pubescence  of  the  whole  plant. 

POLEMONIACE^E. 

3 blox  muscoides,  (Nutt.)  Immediately  below  the  region  of  perpetual  snow,  on  the  Wind  liver 
mountains.  . August  15. 

Hoodiiy  (Richards.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  8. 

0 . pilosa,  (Nutt.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  20. 


Polemonium  cceruleum , (Linn.,  Hook.)  Red  Buttes  on  the  Upper  North  fork  of  the, Platte,  (3  hu~. 
miley  (Hook.)  Highest  parts  of  the  mountains,  near  perpetual  snow.  August  13-15. 

Gilia  (Canttia)  longiflora , (Torr.)  Sand  hills  of  the  Platte.  September  16. 

G.  pulchella,  (Dough)  Upper  part  of  the  Sweet  Water,  near  the  mountains.  August  7-20. 

G.  inconspicua,  (Dough?)  Goat  island,  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  30.  This  differs., 
from  the  Oregon  plant  in  its  fleshy,  simply  pinnatified  leaves,  with  ovate,  obtuse  segments. 

CONVOLVULACE^, 

C alystegia  sepiumy  (R.  Br.)  Forks  of  the  Platte-  July  2. 

Ipomcea  leptophylla,  n.  sp.  Stems  branching  from  the  base,  prostrate,  glabrous,  angular;  leaves 
lanceolate-linear,  very  acute,  entire,  attenuate  at  the  base  into  a petiole;  peduncles  1 to  3-flow- 
ered;  sepals  roundish-ovate,  obtuse  with  a minute  mucro. — Forks  of  the  Platte  to  Laramie  1 
river.  July  4-September  3.  Imperfect  specimens  ofjhis  plAit  were  collected  about  the  sources  of 
the  Canadian,  by  Dr.  James,  in  Long’s  expedition;  but  they,  were  not  described  in  my  account, 
of  his  plants.  The  root,  according  to  Dr.  James,  is  annual,  producing  numerous,  thick  pros- 
trate, but  not  twining  stems,  which  are  two  feet  or  more  in  length.  The  leaves  are  from  two 
to  four  inches  long,  acute  at  each  end,  strongly  veined  apd  somewhat . coriaceous.  Peduncles 
an  inch  or  more  in  length;  those  towards  the  extremity  of  the  branches  only  1 -flowered;  the 
lower  ones  bearing  2,  3,  and  sometimes  4 flowers,  which  are  nearly  the  size  of  those  of  calys-- 
tegia  sepium,  and  of  a purplish  color.  Sepals  appressed,  about  five  lines  long.  Corolla  cam- 
pa^feftate — funnel  form,  the  tube  much  longer  than  the  calyx.  Stamens  inserted  near  the  "base 
of  the  corolla;  filaments  villous  at  the  base;  anthers  oblong-linear,  large.  Style  as  long  as  the 
stamen^;  stigma  2-lobed;  the  lobes  capitate.  Ovary  2-celled,  with  two  ovules  in  each  cell. 

SOLANACEzE. 

Nyctcrium  luteuni , (Donncat.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  4. 

Physalis  pubescent,  (Willd.)  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  23. 

P.  pumila,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

GENTIANACE^E. 


Gcntiana  ardophila  (3  demijlora , (Gjiseb.  ? in  Hook.  FI.  Bor.  Am.  ii,  page  61.)  Sweet  Water 
of  the  Platte.  August  4. 

faj/inis , (Griscb. ) North  fork  of  the  Platte.  September  9. 

pneumonanthe , (Linn.)  Laramie  river  to  Little  Sandy  creek,  in  the  mountains.  July  12— 
August  8. 

G.  Fremontii , n.  sp.  Stem  branched  at  the  base;  branches  1 -flowered;  leaves  ovate,  cuspidate, 
cartilaginous  on  the  margin,  erect;  corolla  funnel-form;  plicae  small,  slight  y 2-toothed;  cap-, 
sple  .ovjafp,. . at.  leijgtjji  entirely  exserted  on  its  thick  stipe. — Wind  river  mountains. — Annual. 
Branchy  seyertjJ,  2,  tp  3 inqpes  long,  or  nearly,  equal,  length-  Leaves  about  three  lines  long,  with 
a strong  wluiti^k,  cartilaginous  border,  shorter  than  the  internodes.  Flowers  as  large  as  those 
of  G,  prostrate/.,. ppatamerous,  Calyx  two-thirds  the  length  of  the  corolla;  the  teeth  about  one- 
third  the  length  of’  the  tube.  Plicse  of  the  corolla  scarcely  one-third  as  long  as  the  lanceolate 
Jokes*.  Stameri^  inqlqde^,;  .anfheps  oblong,  somewhat  cordate  at  the  base.  Capsule  in  matu- 
rity, and  alter  dehiscence,  (in  which  state  all  our  specimens  were  collected,)  exserted  quite  be- 
yond ..the  corolla,  and,  wijth  its  , long  stipe,  resembling  a style,  with,  a large  bilamellate  stigma. 
Npqp  jo£,  the  capsules  contained,  any  seeds.  This  species  is  nearly  related  to  G.  prostrate t, 
(Haenk,)  and  G.htimtfU,  (Stev.,)  but  the  former  has  spatulate  obtuse  recurved  leaves,  and  the 
latter  entire  plicae,  which  are  nearly  the  length  of  the  corolla.  In  G.  humilis , and  in  the  allied 
G.  squarrosa,  (Ledeb.,)  the  capsule  is  exserted  after  discharging  the  seeds. 

Swertia  perennis , (3  obtusa,  (Hook.)  From  Laramie  river  to  the  Big  Buttes. 

Frascra  speciosa , (Hook.)  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountaius.  August  13-14. 

Lmanthus  Iiusselianus,  (Hook.)  Lower  Platte  to  the  forks.  July-September. 


95 


C 174  ] 


AP0CYNACEJ3. 

Apocynum  cunnabinurn,  (Ljpn.)  On  the  Platte. 

ASCLEPIADACEJE. 

Asclepias  speciosa,  (Torr,  in  Ann.  Lyc.  N.  York,  ii,  p.  218. — A Douglasii,  Hook.  FI.  Bor.  Am* 
ii,  p.  53,  t.  142.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2.  Collected  also  by  Mr  Nicollet  in  his  North- 
western expedition.  Hooker’s  plant  differs  in  no  essential  characters  from  my  A.  spepio^,  col- 
lected by  Dr.  James  in  Long’s  first  expedition. 

A verticillata,  (Linn.)  Small  variety.  With  the  preceding. 

A . tubei'osa^  ( Linn. ) Kansas  river.  Jurte  19. 

Ananthtrix  viridis , (Nntt.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  20. 

Acerates  longi folia,  ( Ell.)  Polyotus  longifolia.  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

A.  angustfolim.  Polyotus  angustifolius.  (Nutt)  With  the  preceding. 

OLEACE.E. 

Fraxinus  platycarpa,  (Michx. ) Leaves  only.  Lower  Platte. 

• PLANTAGINACEiE. 

Plantago  eriopoda , (Torr. , in  Ann.  Lyc.  N.  Y ork,  ii,  p.  237. ) Mouth  of  the  Sweet  W*  ater.  July  3 1 «. 

P.  gnaphaloides,  (Nutt.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  24.  ^ 

CHENOPODIACE.E. 

Chenopodium  zosterifolium,  (Hook,)  Platte.  ? 

C.  album , (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  12. 

Olioue  canescem,  (Mocq  Chenop.,  p.  74.)  Atriplex  canescens.  (Nutt.)  Upper  North  fork  of’ 
the  Platte.  July  26. 

Cyclo/oma  platypliylla,  (Mocq,,  I.  c.  p.  18)  Kochia  dentata,  (Willd.)  North  fork  of  the 
Platte.  September  4. 

Sueda  maritima,  (Mocq.,  1.  c.  p.  127.)  With  the  preceding. 

Eurotia  lanata,  (Mocq.,  1.  c.  p.  81.)  JDiotis  latiaia,  (Pursin'")  Red  Buttes  to,  the  mountains, 
August  18-25. 

Fremontia,  n.  gen.  Flowers  diclinous,  mpneepious  and  ? dioicous,  heterqn>,orphous,  Stam.  FI.  in. 
terminal  aments.  Scales  eccentrically  peltate,  on  a short  stipe,  angular,  somewhat  cuspidate  up- 
ward. Stamens  2,  3,  and  4 undereach  scale,  naked,  sessile;  anthers  oblong.  Pist.  FI.  solitary, 
axillary.  Perigonium  closely  adhering  to  the  lower  half  of  the  ovary,  the  bofder  entire,  nearly 
obsolete,  but  in  fruit  enlarging  into  a broad  horizontal  angular  and  undulate  wing.  Ovary 
ovate  ; styles  thick,  divaricate  ; stigmas  linear.  Fruit  a utricle,  the  lower  two-thirds  covered 
with  Jhe  iridurated  calyx,  compressed.  Seed  vertical ; integument  double.  Embryo  flat-spiral, 
(2  to  3 turns,)  green:  radicle  inferior;  albumen  none. 

F.  vermicularis.  ( Bati  s?  vermicular  is.  Hook.)  FI.  Bur.  Amer.  ii,  p.  128.  Upper  North  fork  of 
the  Platte,  near  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water.  July  30;.  A low  glabrous,  diffusely  branched 
shrub,  clothed  with  a whitish  bark.  Leaves,  alternate,  linear,  fleshy,  and  alqip^t  seraiterete,,  6 to 
12  lines  long  and  1 to  2 lines  wide.  Stamina.te  aments  about  three-fourth^ of  an,  inch,  Jopg,  cyl- 
indrical, at  first  dense,  and  composed  of  closely  compacted  angular  scales,  covering  naked  an- 
thers. Anthers  very  deciduous.  Fertile  flowers  in  the  axils  of  the  rameal  leaves.  Calyx 
closely  adherent,  and  at  first  with  only  an  obscure  border  or  limb,  but  at  length  forming  a wing 
3 to  4 lines  in  diameter,  resembling  that  of  Salsola.  This  remarkable  plant,  which  I dedicate  to 
Lieutenant  Fremont,  was  first  collected  by  Dr.  James  about  the  sources  of  the  Canadian,  (in. 
Long’s  expedition,)  but  it  was  omitted  in  my  account  of  his  plants,  published  in  the  Annals  of 
the  Lyceum  of  Natural  History.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  batis?  vermicularis  of  Hooker,  (1.  c.,) 
collected  on  the  barren  grounds  of  the  Oregon  river  by  the  late  Mr.  Douglas,  who- found  it  with 
only  the  staminate  flowers.  We  have  it  now  from  a third  locality,  so  that  the  plant  must  be 


[ 174  ] * 96 

widely  diffused  in  the  barren  regions  towards  the  Rocky  mountains.  It  belongs  to  the  sub-order 
spirulobex  of  Meyer  and  Mocquin,  but  .can  hardly  be  referred  to  ei|hcr  the  tribe  suacdince  or  to* 

i salsolx , differing  from  both  in  its  diclinous  heteiomorphous  flowers,  and  also  from  the  latter  in  its 
flat-spiral,  not  cochleate  embryo. 

NYCTAGINACErE. 

Oxybaphus  nydaginea,  (Torr.  in  James’s  Rocky  Mountain  Plants.)  Calymenia  nyctaginea, 
(Nutt.)  Kansas  river,  June  20. 

Abronia  mellifera , (Dougl  ) North  fork  of  the  Platte,  July  7-12. 

A.  ( tripterocalyx ) micranthum , n.  sp.  Viscid  and  glamtalarly  pubescent;  leaves  ovate;  undulate, 
obtuse,  acute  at  the  base,  petiolatc;  perianth  funnel  form,  4-  lobed  at  the  summit,  3 to  4 androus; 
achenium  broadly  3-winged. — Near  the  mouth  of  Sweet  Water  river.  August  1.  Annual. 
Stem  diffusely  branched  from  the  base,  beginning  to  flower  when  only  an  inch  high;  the  branches 
of  the  mature  plant  above  a foot  long.  Leaves  1 to  l £ inoh  in  length;  petioles  about  as  long 
as  the  lamina.  Headsaxillary.  Involucre  5 leaved,  8 to  1 4 -flowered;  leaflets  ovate,  acumi- 
nate. Perianth  colored,  (purplish,)  3 to  4 lines  long;  lobes  semi-ovate,  obtuse.  Stamens  inserted 
in  the  middle  of  the  tube,  unequal;  aethers  oyate,  sagittate  at  the  base.  Ovary  oblong,  clothed 
with  the  S winged  base  of  the  calyx;  style  fiiiform;  stigma  filiform  clavate,  incurved.  Mature 
achenium  about  7 lines  long  and  4 wide;  the  wings  broad,  nearly  equM,  membranaceous  and 
str®gly  reticulated.  Seed  oblong.  Embryo  conduplicate,  involving  the  deeply  2-partcd  mealy 
albumen;  radicle  linear-terete;  inner  cotyledon  abortive!  outer  one  oblong,  foliaceous,  concave, 
as  long  as  the  radicle.  This  interes  ing  plant  differs  from  its  congeners  in  its  funnel  form  pe- 
rianth, 3 to  4 androus  flowers,  and  broadly  3-winged  fruit,  but  I have  not  been  able  to  compare 
it  critically  with  other  species  of  abronia.  It  may  prove  to  be  a distinct  genus. 

POLYGON  ACEJE. 

Polygonum  Persicaria,  (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  September  4. 

P.  aviculare,  (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

P.  amphibium,  (Linn.)  Sweet  \j^ater  river.  August  4. 

P.  viviparum , (Linn.)  Black  hills.  July  26. 

Rurnex  salicifulius,  (Weinn.)  With  the  preceding. 

Qxyria  reniformis,  (Hill.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  13-16. 

Eriogunum  ovali folium,  (Nutt.)  Horse-shoe  creek,  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  22. 

E.  coespitosum,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

E.  umbellatum , (Torr.,)  in  Ann.  Lyc.  Nat.  Hist.  N.  York,  ii,  p.  241.  SweetWater  river.  Aug.  7. 

E.  Fremonlii , n.  sp.  With  the  preceding. 

E.  annuum , (Nutt.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  September  4. 

ELEAGNACErE. 

Skepherdia  argentea,  (Nutt.)  “ Grains  de  boeuf.”  Upper  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  from  the 
Red  Buttes  to  the  mouth  of  tjie  Sweet  Water.  August  21-28. 

S.  Canadensis , (Nutt.)  On  a lake  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  August  12-17. 

Eleagnus  argenteus , (Pursh.)  With  the  preceding. 

EUPHORBIACE.E. 

Euphorbia  marginata,  (Pursh.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  September  1 1. 

E.  polygonifolia,  (Linn.)  South  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  4. 

E.  corollata , (Linn. ) On  the  Kansas. 

E.  obtusala,  (Pursh.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  July  23. 

Pilinophytumrapitatum , (Klotsch in  Wiegem.  Arch.,  April,  1842.)  Croton  capitatum,  (Michx.) 
Forks  of  the  Platte. 

Hendecandra?  (Esch.,)  multiflora , n.  sp. ; annual  canescent,  with  stellate  pubescence,  dioecious; 


97 


C 1^4  ] 

stem  somewhat  diffusely  and  trichotomously  branched;  leaves  ovate -oblong;  petiolate  obtuse,  entire; 
staminate  flowers  on  crowded  axillary  and  terminal  compound  spikes. — Laramie  river,  North  fork 
of  the  Platte.  September  3 — 11. — About  a foot  high.  Fructiferous  plant  unknown.  With, 
larger  leaves.  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2.  This  seems  to  be  the  same  as  the  plant  of  Drum- 
mond’s Texan  Collection,  III,  No.  266. 

SALICIACEiE. 

Salix  longifolia , (Willd.)  On  the  Platte. 

5.  Muhlenbergii,  (Willd.)  With  the  preceding.  Several  other  species  exist  in  the  collection — 
some  from  the  Platte,  others  from  the  mountains;  but  I have  had  no  time  to  determine  them 
satisfactorily. 

Populus  tremuloides , (Michx.)  Lake  in  the  Wind  river  mountains. 

P.  dngustifolia , (Torr.  in.  Ann.  Lyc.  N.  Hist,  of  New  York,  ii,  p.  249.)  Sweet  Water  river, 
Aug.  21.  , 

P.  monilifera , (Ait.)  Lower  Platte. 

ULMACE^E. 

Ulmus  fulva,  (Michx.)  Lower  Platte. 

Seltis  crassifolia,  (Nutt.)  With  the  preceding. 

BETULACEJL 

Bettila  glandulosa,  (Michx.-)  On  a lake  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  12-17. 

B.  occidentalism  (Hook.)  With  the  preceding. 

CONIFERJH. 

Pinus  rigida , (Linn.)  Lower  Platte.  Without  cones.  Leaves  in  threes,  about  3 inches  long. 

P.  undetermined.  Defiles  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-14.  Between  P.  strobusand 
P.  Lambertiana.  Leaves  in  5’s,  1|  to  2 inches  long,  rigid.  No  cones. 

P.  ( Abies ) alba , (Michx.)  With  the  preceding. 

P.  near  balsamea.  With  the  preceding.  Leaves  only.' 

Juniperus  Virginiana , (Linn.)  Lower  Platte. 


ENDOGENOUS  PLANTS. 

ALISMACE.E. 

Sagittaria  sagittifolia,  (Linn.)  On  the  Kansas. 

ORCHIDACE^E. 

Platanthera  leucophcea,  (Lindl.)  Black  hills.  July  27. 

P . hyperborea , (R.  Br.)  Laramie  river  to  the  Red  Buttes.  Aug.  26-31. 

Spiranthes  cemua,  (Rich.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  6. 

Aplectrum  hyemale,  (Nutt.)  On  the  Platte.  June  29. 

IRIDACEiE. 

Sisyrinchium  anceps,  (Linn.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  12. 

Iris  Missouriensts,  (Nutt.,  in  Jour.  Acad.  Phil,  vii,  p.  58.)  In  fruit.  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug.  3* 
Rhizoma  very  thick.  Leaves  narrow,  rigid,  as  long  as  the  scape.  Scape  nearly  naked,  2- flow  - 
ered,  terete,  10  inches  high.  Capsules  oblong,  obtusely  triangular.  Flowers  not  seen. 


[ 174  ] 


98 


LILIACE^E. 

Yucca  angustifolia,  ( Sims.)  Laramie  river.  July  14. 

Allium  reticulatum,  (Fras.)  Defiles  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  12-17. 

•Smilacina  stellata , (Desf.)  From  the  Laramie  river  to  the  Red  Buttes.  Aug.  26-31 

MELANTHACEJ3J 

Zigadenus  glaucus,  (Nutt.)  Sweet  Water  river.  Aug. 

JUNCACEJE. 

Juncus  echinalus,  (Muhl.)  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  Sept.  4. 

COMMELYNACE.E. 

Tradescantia  Virginica , (Linn.,)  and  a narrow-leaved  variety.  Kansas  and  Platte. 

CYPERACE_'E. 

Carex  fesiucacea,  (Schk.)  On  the  Kansas.  June. 

C.aurea,  (Nutt.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  22. 

C.  panicea , (Linn.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains,  near  perpetual  snow.  Aug.  15. 
C,  atrata , (Linn.)  With  the  preceding. 

GRAMINEJB. 

Spartina  cynosuroides , (Willd.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  22. 

Aristida  p aliens,  (Pursh.)  On  the  Platte.  June  29. 

Agrostis  Michauxiana,  (Trin.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  23. 

Phleum  alpinum , (Linn.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-14. 

Bromus  ciliatus , (Ifinn.)  On  the  Platte.  June- Aug. 

Pestuca  ovina,  (Linn.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-14. 

Festuca  nutans,  (Willd.)  On  the  Kansas. 

Poa  laxa , (Haenke.)  With  the  preceding. 

P.  ot'occtia,  (Michx.)  With  the  preceding.  Spikelets  2-fiowered. 

P . nervata,  (Willd.)  On  the  Kansas. 

Koeleria  cristata,  (Pers.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas,  and  on  the  Platte  as  high  as  Laramie 
river.  June  20 — July  22. 

Deschampsiu  coespitosa,  (Beauv.)  Alpine  region  of  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  13-14. 
Andropogon  scoparius,  (Michx.)  Lower  Platte. 

A.  nutans,  (Linn.)  Laramie  river,  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  Sept.  3-4. 

Hordeum  jubatum,  (Ait.)  Forks  of  the  Platte.  July  2. 

Elymus  Virginicus,  (Linn.)  Big  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  20. 

E.  Canadensis,  (Linn.)  Little  Blue  river  of  the  Kansas.  June  22. 

Beckmannia  cruciformis,  (Jacq.).  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  July  22. 

EQUISETACE^E. 

Equisetum  arvense , (Linn.)  On  a lake  in  the  Wind  river  mountains.  Aug.  12-17. 

FILICES. 

Hypopeltis  obtusa,  (Torr.  Compend.  Bot.  N.  States,  p.  380,  1826.)  Aspidium  obtusum,  (Willd.) 
Woodsia  Perriniana,  (Hook,  and  Grev.  Icon.  Fil.  I.  t.  68.)  Physematium  (Kaulf.)  obtusum» 
(Hook,  FI.  Bor.  Am.  ii,  p.  259.)  On  the  Platte. 


99 


[ H4  ] 


ASTRONOMICAL  OBSERVATIONS. 


The  maps  which  accompany  this  report  are  on  Flamsteed’s  modified  pro- 
jection, and  the  longitudes  are  referred  to  the  meridian  of  Greenwich. 

For  the  determination  of  astronomical  positions,  we  were  provided  with 
the  following  instruments : 

One  telescope,  magnifying  power  120. 

One  circle,  by  Gambey,  Paris. 

One  sextant,  by  Gambey,  Paris. 

One  sextant,  by  Troughton. 

One  box  chronometer,  No.  7,810,  by  French. 

One  Brockbank  pocket  chronometer. 

One  small  watch  with  a light  chronometer  balance,  No.  4,632,  by 
Arnold  & Dent. 

The  rate  of  the  chronometer  7,810,  is  exhibited  in  the  following  state- 
ment : 


“New  York,  May  5,  1842. 

“ Chronometer  No.  7,810,  by  French,  is  this  day  at  noon — 

“ Slow  of  Greenwich  mean  time  - • 11'  4" 

“ Fast  of  New  York  mean  time  - - 4 h.  45'  1" 

“Loses  per  day  - - - 2"X. 

“ ARTHUR  STEWART, 

“ 74  Merchants’  Exchange.” 

An  accident  among  some  rough  ground  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Kan- 
sas river  strained  the  balance  of  this  chronometer,  (No.  7,810,)  and  ren- 
dered it  useless  during  the  remainder  of  the  campaign.  From  the  9th  of 
June  to  the  24th  of  August,  inclusively,  the  longitudes  depend  upon  the 
Brockbank  pocket  chronometer ; the  rate  of  which,  on  leaving  St.  Louis, 
was  fourteen  seconds.  The  rate  obtained  by  observations  at  Fort  Laramie, 
14". 05,  has  been  used  in  calculation. 

From  the  24th  of  August  until  the  termination  of  the  journey,  No.  4,632 
(of  which  the  rate  was  35 ".79)  was  used  for  the  same  purposes.  The  rate 
of  this  watch  was  irregular,  and  I place  but  little  confidence  in  the  few 
longitudes  which  depend  upon  it,  though,  so  far  as  we  have  any  means  of 
judging,  they  appear  tolerably  correct. 


[ 174  ] 100 

Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes , deduced  from  observations  made 

during  the  journey. 


-T 

Date. 

Station. 

Latitude.  1 

Longitude. 

1842. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

May  27 

St.  Louis,  residence  of  Colonel  Brant 

- 

38 

37 

34 

June  8 

Chouteau’s  lower  trading  post,  Kansas  river 

- 

39 

05 

57 

94 

25 

46 

16 

Left  bank  of  the  Kansas  river,  seven  miles  above  the 

ford  - 

_ 

39 

06 

40 

95 

38 

05 

18 

Vermillion  creek  - 

- 

39 

15 

19 

96 

04 

07 

19 

Cold  Springs,  near  the  road  to  Laramie 

- 

39 

30 

40 

96 

14 

49 

20 

Big  Blue  river  - 

- 

39 

45 

08 

96 

32 

35 

25 

Little  Blue  river  - 

- 

40 

26 

50 

98 

22 

12 

26 

Right  bank  of  Platte  river  - 

- 

40 

41 

06 

98 

45 

49 

27 

Right  bank  of  Platte  river  - - ' 

- 

40 

39 

32 

99 

05 

24 

28 

Right  bank  of  Platte  river  - 

- 

40 

39 

51 

30 

Right  bank  of  Platte  river  - 

- 

40 

39 

55 

100 

05 

47 

July  2 

Junction  of  North  and  South  forks  of  the  Nebraska 

or  Platte  river  - 

- 

41 

05 

05 

100 

49 

43 

4 

South  fork  of  Platte  river,  left  bank. 

6 

South  fork  of  Platte  river,  island 

- 

40 

51 

17 

103 

07 

7 

South  fork  of  Platte  river,  left  bank  - 

- 

40 

53 

26 

103 

30 

37 

11 

South  fork  of  Platte  river,  St.  Vrain’s  fort  - 

- 

40 

22 

35 

105 

12 

12 

12 

Crow  creek  .. 

. 

40 

41 

59 

104 

57 

49 

13 

On  a stream,  name  unknown 

-■ 

41 

08 

30 

104 

39 

37 

14 

Horse  creek,  Goshen’s  hole  ? - *■ 

_ 

41 

40 

13 

104 

24 

36 

16 

Fort  Laramie,  near  the  mouth  of  Laramie’s  fork 

- 

42 

12 

10 

104 

47 

43 

23 

North  fork  of  Platte  river  - 

_ 

42 

39 

25 

104 

59 

59 

24 

North  fork  of  Platte  river  - - - 1 

- 

42 

47 

40 

25 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  Dried  Meat  camp 

_ 

42 

51 

35 

105 

50 

45 

26 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  noon  halt 

_ 

42 

50 

08 

26 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  mouth  of  Deer  creek 

_ 

42 

52 

24 

106 

08 

24 

28 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  Cache  camp 

- 

42 

50 

53 

106 

38 

26 

29 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  left  bank 

_ 

42 

38 

01 

106 

54 

32 

30 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  Goat  island 

- 

42 

33 

27 

107 

13 

29 

Aug.  1 

Sweet  Water  river,  one  mile  below  Rock  Independ- 

ence  ----- 

- 

42' 

29 

56 

107 

25 

23 

4 

Swreet  Water  river  - ... 

- 

42 

32 

31 

108 

30 

13 

7 

Sweet  Water  river-  - 

- 

42 

27 

15 

109 

21 

32 

8 

Little  Sandy  creek,  tributary  to  the  Colorado  of  the 

West  - 

- 

42 

27 

34 

109 

37 

59 

9 

New  fork,  tributary  to  the  Colorado 

- 

42 

42 

46 

109 

58 

11 

10 

Mountain  lake 

- 

42 

49 

49 

110 

08 

03 

15 

Highest  peak  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 

19 

Sweet  Water,  noon  halt  - 

- 

42 

24 

32 

19 

Sweet  W ater  river  - 

- 

42 

22 

22 

20 

Sweet  Water  river  - - 

_ 

42 

31 

46 

22 

Sweet  Water  river,  noon  halt 

. 

42 

26 

10 

22 

Sweet  Water  river,  at  Rock  Independence  - 

. 

42 

29 

36 

23 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  mouth  of  Sweet  Water 

_ 

42 

27 

18 

30 

Horse-shoe  creek,  noon  halt 

_ 

42 

24 

24 

Sept.  3 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  right  bank 

, 

42 

01 

40 

4 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  near  Scott’s  bluffs 

_ 

41 

54 

38 

5 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  right  bank,  six  miles  aboye 

Chimney  rock  - 

_ 

41 

43 

36 

8 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  mouth  of  Ash  creek 

41 

17 

19 

9 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  right  bank 

_ 

41 

14 

30 

10 

North  fork  of  Platte  river,  Cedar  bluffs 

_ 

41 

10- 

16 

16 

Platte  river,  noon  halt  - 

_ 

40 

54 

31 

16 

Platte  river,  left  bank  - 

_ 

40 

52 

34 

17 

Platte  river,  left  bank 

- 

40 

42 

38 

101 


C 174  ] 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Date. 

Station.  . 

Latitude. 

1842. 

I 

Deg-  min . sec. 

Sept.  18 

Platte  river,  left  bank , 

40  40  21 

19 

Platte  river,  left,bank  - 

40  39  44 

20 

Platte  river,  noon  halt,  left  bank  - 

40  48  19 

20 

Platte  river,  left  bank  - ■ 

40  54  02 

21 

Platte  river,  left  bank  - - - - 

41  05  37 

23 

Platte  river,  noon  halt,  left  bank  - 

41  20  20 

. 23 

Platte  river,  left  bank  - 

41  22  52 

25 

Platte  river,  mouth  of  Loup  fork  - - 

41  22  11 

• 28 

Platte  river,  mouth  of  Elk  Horn  river 

41  09  34 

29 

Platte  river,  left  bank  - 

41  02  15 

Oct.  2 

Bellevue,  at  the  poet  of  the  American  Fur  Company, 

right  bank  of  the  Missouri  river  - 

41  08  24 

4 

Left  bank  of  the  Missouri,  opposite  to  the  right  bank 

of  the  mouth  of  the  Platte  - 

41  02  11 

5 

Missouri  river  - 

40  34  08 

6 

Bertholet’s  island,  noon  halt  - 

40  27  08 

6 

Missouri  river,  mouth  of  Nishnabatona  river 

40  16  40 

8 

Missouri  river,  left  bank  - 

39  36  02 

10 

Missouri  river,  mouth  of  the  Kansas  river 

39  06  03 

Longitude. 


Deg . min . sec . 


95  20 


9% 


A REPORT 


OF  THE 

EXPLORING  EXPEDITION 

TO 

OREGON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA, 


IN  THE  YEARS  1843-’44. 


105 


[ *74  ] 


REPOET. 


Washington  City,  March  1,  1845. 

Colonel  J.  J.  A'eert, 

Chief  of  the  Corps  of  Topographical  Engineers: 

Sir:  In  pursuance  of  your  instructions,  to  connect  the  reconnoissance  of 
1842,  which  I had  the  honor  to  conduct,  with  the  surveys  of  Commander 
Wilkes  on  the  coast  of  the  Pacific  ocean,  so  as  to  give  a connected  survey 
of  the  interior  of  our  continent,  I proceeded  to  the  Great  West  early  in  the 
spring  of  1S43,  and  arrived,  on  the  17th  of  May,  at  the  little  town  of  Kan- 
sas, on  the  Missouri  frontier,  near  the  junction  of  the  Kansas  river  with 
the  Missouri  river,  where  I was  detained  near  two  weeks*  in  completing 
the  necessary  preparations  for  the  extended  explorations  winch  my  instruc- 
tions contemplated. 

My  party  consisted  principally  of  Creole  and  Canadian  French,  and 
Americans,  amounting  in  all  to  39  men;  among  whom  you  will  recognise 
several  of  those  who  were  with  me  in  my  first  expedition,  and  who  have 
been  favorably  brought  to  your  notice  in  a former  report.  Mr.  Thomas 
Fitzpatrick,  whom  many  years  of  hardship  and  exposure  in  the  western 
territories  had  rendered  familiar  with  a portion  of  the  country  it  was  de- 
signed to  explore,  had  been  selected  as  our  guide  ; and  Mr.  Charles  Preuss, 
who  had  been  my  assistant  in  the  previous  journey,  was  again  associated 
with  me  in  the  same  capacity  on  the  present  expedition.  Agreeably  to  your 
directions,  Mr.  Theodore  Talbot,  of  Washington  city,  had  been  attached  to 
the  party,  with  a view  to  advancement  in  his  profession  ; and  at  St.  Louis 
I had  been  joined  by  Mr.  Frederick  Dwight,  a gentleman  of  Springfield, 
Massachusetts,  who  availed  himself  of  our  overland  journey  to  visit  the 
Sandwich  islands  and  China,  by  way  of  Fort  Vancouver. 

The  men  engaged  for  the  service  were : 


Alexis  Ayot, 
Francois  Badeau, 
Oliver  Beaulieu, 
Baptiste  Bernier, 
John  A.  Campbell, 
John  G.  Campbell, 
Manuel  Chapman, 
Ransom  Clark, 
Philibert  Courteau, 
Michel  Crelis, 
William  Creuss, 
Clinton  Deforest, 
Baptiste  Derosier, 
Basil  Lajeunesse, 
Francois  Lajeunesse, 
Henry  Lee, 


Louis  Menard, 
Louis  Montreuil, 
Samuel  Neal, 
Alexis  Pera, 
Francois  Pera, 
James  Power, 
Raphael  Proue, 
Oscar  Sarpy, 
Baptiste  Tabeau, 
Charles  Taplin, 
Baptiste  Tesson, 
Auguste  Vasquez, 
Joseph  Verrot, 
Patrick  White, 
Tiery  Wright, 
Louis  2indel,  and 


106 


[ 174  ] 

Jacob  Dodson,  a free  young  colored  man  of  Washington  city,  who  vol-  j 
unteered  to  accompany  the  expedition,  and  performed  his  duty  manfully  | 
throughout  the  voyage.  Two  Delaware  Indians — a fine-looking  old  man  | 
andhisson — were  engaged  to  accompany  the  expedition  as  hunters,  through 
the  kindness  of  Major  Cummins,  the  excellent  Indian  agent.  L.  Maxwell, 
who  had  accompanied  the  expedition  as  one  of  the  hunters  in  1842,  being 
on  his  way  to  Taos,  in  New  Mexico,  also  joined  us  at  this  place. 

The  party  was  armed  generally  with  Hall’s  carbines,  which,  with  a brass 
12-lb.  howitzer,  had  been  furnished  to  me  from  the  United  States  arsenal  at 
St.  Louis,  agreeably  to  the  orders  of  Colonel  S.  W.  Kearney,  commanding 
the  3d  military  division.  Three  men  were  especially  detailed  for  the  man- 
agement of  this  piece,  under  the  charge  of  Louis  Zindel,  a native  of  Germa-  ; 
ny,  who  had  been  19  years  a non-commissioned  officer  of  artillery  in  the 
Prussian  army,  and  regularly  instructed  in  the  duties  of  his  profession.  The 
camp  equipage  and  provisions  were  transported  in  twelve  carts,  drawn  each  1 
by  two  mules;  and  a light  covered  wagon,  mounted  on  good  springs,  had  ' 
been  provided  for  the  safer  carriage  of  the  instruments.  These  were  : 

One  refracting  telescope,  by  Frauenhofer. 

One  reflecting  circle,  by  Gambey. 

Two  sextants,  by  Troughton. 

One  pocket  chronometer,  No.  837,  by  Gofle,  Falmouth. 

One  pocket  chronometer,  No.  739,  by  Brockbank. 

One  syphon  barometer,  by  Bunten,  Paris. 

One  cistern  barometer,  by  Frye  & Shaw,  New  York. 

Six  thermometers,  and  a number  of  small  compasses. 

To  make  the  exploration  as  useful  as  possible,  I determined,  in  conform-  | 
ity  to  your  general  instructions,  to  vary  the  route  to  the  Rocky  mountains 
from  that  followed  in  the  year  1S42.  The  route  then  was  up  the  valley  of  ; 
the  Great  Platte  river  to  the  South  Pass,  in  north  latitude  42° ; the  route 
now  determined  on  was  up  the  valley  of  the  Kansas  river,  and  to  the  head  | 
of  the  Arkansas,  and  to  some  pass  in  the  mountains,  if  any  could  be  found, 
at  the  sources  of  that  river. 

B}?-  making  this  deviation  from  the  former  route,  the  problem  of  a new 
road  to  Oregon  and  California,  in  a climate  more  genial,  might  be  solved  ; 
and  a better  knowledge  obtained  of  an  important  river,  and  the  country  it 
drained,  while  the  great  object  of  the  expedition  would  find  its  point  of 
commencement  at  the  termination  of  the  former,  which  was  at  that  great 
gate  in  the  ridge  of  the  Rocky  mountains  called  the  South  Pass,  and  on  the 
lofty  peak  of  the  mountain  which  overlooks  it,  deemed  the  highest  peak  in 
the  ridge,  and  from  the  opposite  sides  of  which  four  great  rivers  take  their 
rise,  and  flow  to  the  Pacific  or  the  Mississippi. 

Various  obstacles  delayed  our  departure  until  the  morning  of  the  29th, 
when  we  commenced  our  long  voyage  ; and  at  the  close  of  a day,  rendered 
disagreeably  cold  by  incessant  rain,  encamped  about  four  miles  beyond  the 
frontier,  on  the  verge  of  the  great  prairies. 

Resuming  our  journey  on  the  31st,  after  the  delay  of  a day  to  complete 
our  equipment  and  furnish  ourselves  with  some  of  the  comforts  of  civilized 
life,  we  encamped  in  the  evening  at  Elm  Grove,  in  company  with  several 
emigrant  wagons,  constituting  a party  which  was  proceeding  to  Upper  Cal- 
ifornia, under  the  direction  of  Mr.  J.  B.  Childs,  of  Missouri.  The  wagons 
were  variously  freighted  with  goods,  furniture,  and  farming  utensils,  con- 


107 


[ 174  ] 

taining  among  other  things  an  entire  set  of  machinery  for  a mill  which  Mr. 
Childs  designed  erecting  on  the  waters  of  the  Sacramento  river  emptying 
into  the  bay  of  San  Francisco. 

We  were  joined  here  by  Mr.  William  Gilpin,  of  Missouri,  who,  intending 
this  year  to  visit  the  settlements  in  Oregon,  had  been  invited  to  accompany 
us,  and  proved  a useful  and  agreeable  addition  to  the  party.  From  this  en- 
campment, our  route  until  the  3d  of  June  was  nearly  the  same  as  that  de- 
scribed to  you  in  1S42.  Trains  of  wagons  were  almost  constantly  in  sight ; 
giving  to  the  road  a populous  and  animated  appearance,  although  the  great- 
er portion  of  the  emigrants  were  collected  at  the  crossing,  or  already  on 
their  march  beyond  the  Kansas  river. 

Leaving  at  the  ford  the  usual  emigrant  road  to  the  mountains,  (which  you 
will  find  delineated  with  considerable  detail  on  one  of  the  accompanying 
maps,)  we  continued  our  route  along  the  southern  side  of  the  Kansas,  where 
we  found  the  country  much  more  broken  than  on  the  northern  side  of  the 
river,  and  where  our  progress  was  much  delayed  by  the  numerous  small 
streams,  which  obliged  us  to  make  frequent  bridges.  On  the  morning  of 
the  4th,  we  crossed  a handsome  stream,  called  by  the  Indians  Otter  creek, 
about  130  feet  wide,  where  a flat  stratum  of  limestone,  which  forms  the 
bed,  made  an  excellent  ford.  We  met  here  a small  party  of  Kansas  and 
Delaware  Indians,  the  latter  returning  from  a hunting  and  trapping  expe- 
dition on  the  upper  waters  of  the  river ; and  on  the  heights  above  were 
five  or  six  Kansas  women,  engaged  in  digging  prairie  potatoes,  ( psoralea 
esculenta.)  On  the  afternoon  of  the  6th,  while  busily  engaged  in  crossing 
a wooded  stream,  we  were  thrown  into  a little  confusion  by  the  sudden  ar- 
rival of  Maxwell,  who  entered  the  camp  at  full  speed  at  the  head  of  a war 
party  of  Osage  Indians,  with  gay  red  blankets,  and  heads  shaved  to  the 
scalp  lock.  They  had  run  him  a distance  of  about  nine  miles,  from  a creek 
on  which  we  had  encamped  the  day  previous,  and  to  which  he  had  re- 
turned in  search  of  a runaway  horse  belonging  to  Mr.  Dwight,  which  had 
taken  the  homeward  road,  carrying  with  him  saddle,  bridle,  and  holster 
pistols.  The  Osages  were  probably  ignorant  of  our  strength,  and,  when 
they  charged  into  the  camp,  drove  off  a number  of  our  best  horses  ; but  we 
were  fortunately  well  mounted,  and,  after  a hard  chase  of  seven  or  eight 
miles,  succeeded  in  recovering  them  all.  This  accident,  which  occasioned 
delay  and  trouble,  and  threatened  danger  and  loss,  and  broke  down  some 
good  horses  at  the  start,  and  actually  endangered  the  expedition,  was  a first 
fruit  of  having  gentlemen  in  company — very  estimable,  to  be  sure,  but  who 
are  not  trained  to  the  care  and  vigilance  and  self-dependence  which  such  an 
expedition  required,  and  who  are  not  subject  to  the  orders  which  enforce 
attention  and  exertion.  We  arrived  on  the  8th  at  the  mouth  of  the  Smoky- 
hill  fork,  which  is  the  principal  southern  branch  of  the  Kansas ; forming 
here,  by  its  junction  with  the  Republican,  or  northern  branch,  the  main 
Kansas  river.  Neither  stream  was  fordable,  and  the  necessity  of  making 
a raft,  together  with  bad  weather,  detained  us  here  until  the  morning  of 
the  11th ; when  we  resumed  our  journey  along  the  Republican  fork.  By 
our  observations,  the  junction  of  the  streams  is  in  latitude  39°  03'  38",  longi- 
tude 96°  24'  56",  and  at  an  elevation  of  926  feet  above  the  gulf  of  Mexico. 
For  several  days  we  continued  to  travel  along  the  Republican,  through  a 
country  beautifully  watered  with  numerous  streams,  handsomely  timbered; 
and  rarely  an  incident  occurred  to  vary  the  monotonous  resemblance  which 
one  day  on  the  prairies  here  bears  to  another,  and  which  scarcely  require 


108 


[ 174  ] 

a particular  description.  Now  and  then,  we  caught  a glimpse  of  a small 
herd  of  elk  ; and  occasionally  a band  of  antelopes,  whose  curiosity  some- 
times brought  them  within  rifle  range,  would  circle  round  us,  and  then 
scour  off  into  the  prairies.  As  we  advanced  on  our  road,  these  became 
more  frequent ; but  as  we  journeyed  on  the  line  usually  followed  by  the  ,, 
trapping  and  hunting  parties  of  the  Kansas  and  Delaware  Indians,  game 
of  every  kind  continued  very  shy  and  wild.  The  bottoms  which  form  the 
immediate  valley  of  the  main  river  were  generally  about  three  miles  wide;  \ 
having  a rich  soil  of  black  vegetable  mould,  and,  for  a prairie  country,  well 
interspersed  with  wood.  The  country  was  every  where  covered  with  a 
considerable  variety  of  grasses — occasionally  poor  and  thin,  but  far  more  i 
frequently  luxuriant  and  rich.  We  had  been  gradually  and  regularly  as-  ; 
cending  in  our  progress  westward,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  14th,  when  j 
we  encamped  on  a little  creek  in  the  valley  of  the  Republican,  265  miles 
by  our  travelling  road  from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  we  were  at  an  eleva-  I 
tion  of  1,520  feet.  That  part  of  the  river  where  we  were  now  encamped  is 
called  by  the  Indians  the  Big  Timber.  Hitherto  our  route  had  been  laborious 
and  extremely  slow,  the  unusually  wet  spring  and  constant  rain  having  so 
saturated  the  whole  country  that  it  was  necessary  to  bridge  every  water- 
course, and,  for  days  together,  our  usual  march  averaged  only  five  or  six 
miles.  Finding  that  at  such  a rate  of  travel  it  would  be  imposible  to  com- 
ply with  your  instructions,  I determined  at  this  place  to  divide  the  party,  j 
and,  leaving  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  with  25  men  in  charge  of  the  provisions  and 
heavier  baggage  of  the  camp,  to  proceed  myself  in  advance,  with  a light ! 
party  of  15  men,  taking  with  me  the  howitzer  and  the  light  wagon  which 
carried  the  instruments. 

Accordingly,  on  the  morning  of  the  16th,  the  parties  separated  ; and,  bear- 
ing a little  out  from  the  river,  with  a view  of  heading  some  of  the  numerous 
affluents,  after  a few  hours’  travel  over  somewhat  broken  ground,  we  en- 
tered upon  an  extensive  and  high  level  prairie,  on  which  we  encamped  to- 
wards evening  at  a little  stream,  where  a single  dry  cottonwood  afforded  the 
necessary  fuel  for  preparing  supper.  Among  a variety  of  grasses  which  to- 
day made  their  first  appearance,  I noticed  bunch  grass,  \festuca,)  and  buffalo 
grass,  ( sesleria  dactyloides.)  Amorpha  canescens  {lead  plant ) continued 
the  characteristic  plant  of  the  country,  and  a narrow-leaved  lathy rus  oc- 
curred during  the  morning  in  beautiful  patches.  Sida  coccinea  occurred 
frequently,  with  a psoralia  near  psoralia  floribunda , and  a number  of  | 
plants  not  hitherto  met,  just  verging  into  bloom.  The  water  on  which  we  ) 
had  encamped  belonged  to  Solomon’s  fork  of  the  Smoky-hill  river,  along  I 
whose  tributaries  we  continued  to  travel  for  several  days. 

The  country  afforded  us  an  excellent  road,  the  route  being  generally 
over  high  and  very  level  prairies ; and  we  met  with  no  other  delay  than  be- 
ing frequently  obliged  to  bridge  one  of  the  numerous  streams,  which  were 
well  timbered  with  ash,  elm,  cottonwood,  and  a very  large  oak — the  latter 
being,  occasionally,  five  and  six  feet  in  diameter,  with  a spreading  summit. 
Sida  coccinea  is  very  frequent  in  vermilion-colored  patches  on  the  high 
. and  low  prairie  ; and  I remarked  that  it  has  a very  pleasant  perfume. 

The  wild  sensitive  plant  {schrankia  angustata)  occurs  frequently,  gen- 
erally on  the  dry  prairies,  in  valleys  of  streams,  and  frequently  on  the  broken 
prairie  bank.  I remark  that  the  leaflets  close  instantly  to  a very  light  touch. 
Amorpha , with  the  same  psoralea,  and  a dwarf  species  of  lupinus,  are  the 
characteristic  plants. 


109 


C 174  ] 


On  the  19th,  in  the  afternoon,  we  crossed  the  Pawnee  road  to  the  Ar- 
kansas, and,  travelling  a few  miles  onward,  the  monotony  of  the  prairies 
was  suddenly  dispelled  by  the  appearance  of  five  or  six  buffalo  bulls,  form- 
ing a vanguard  of  immense  herds,  among  which  we  were  travelling  a few 
days  afterwards.  Prairie  dogs  were  seen  for  the  first  time  during  the  day; 
and  we  had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  an  antelope  for  supper.  Our  eleva- 
tion had  now  increased  to  1,900  feet.  Sida  coccinea  was  a characteristic 
on  the  creek  bottoms,  and  buffalo  grass  is  becoming  abundant  on  the  higher 
parts  of  the  ridges. 

June  21. — During  the  forenoon  we  travelled  up  a branch  of  the  creek  on 
which  we  had  encamped,  in  a broken  country,  where,  however,  the  dividing 
ridges  always  afforded  a good  r<  ad.  Plants  were  few;  and  with  the 
short  sward  of  the  buffalo  grass,  which  now  prevailed  every  where,  giving 
to  the  prairies  a smooth  and  mossy  appearance,  were  mingled  frequent 
[ patches  of  a beautiful  red  grass,  ( aristida  pa/lens, ) which  had  made  its  ap- 
pearance only  within  the  last  few  days. 

i We  halted  to  noon  at  a solitary  cottonwood  in  a hollow,  near  which  was 
killed  the  first  buffalo,  a large  old  bull. 

Antelope  appeared  in  bands  during  the  day.  Crossing  here  to  the  affluents 
of  the  Republican,  we  encamped  on  a fork,  about  forty  feet  wide  and  one 
foot  deep,  flowing  with  a swift  current  over  a sandy  bed,  and  well  wooded 
with  ash-leaved  maple,  ( negunclo  fraxinifolium ,)  elm,  cottonwood,  and  a 
few  white  oaks.  We  were  visited  in  the  evening  by  a very  violent  storm, 
accompanied  by  wind,  lightning,  and  thunder;  a cold  rain  falling  in  torrents. 
According  to  the  barometer,  our  elevation  was  2,130  feet  above  the  gulf. 

At  noon,  on  the  23d,  we  descended  into  the  valley  of  a principal  fork  of 
the  Republican,  a beautiful  stream  with  a dense  border  of  wood,  consisting 
principally  of  varieties  of  ash,  forty  feet  wide  and  four  feet  deep.  It  was  mu- 
sical with  the  notes  of  many  birds,  which,  from  the  vast  expanse  of  silent 
prairie  around,  seemed  all  to  have  collected  here.  We. continued  during 
the  afternoon  our  route  along  the  river,  which  was  populous  with  prairie 
dogs,  (the  bottoms  being  entirely  occupied  with  their  villages,)  and  late  in 
the  evening  encamped  on  its  banks.  The  prevailing  timber  is  a blue-foliaged 
ash,  ( fraxinus , near  F.  Americana ,)  and  ash-leaved  maple.  With  these 
were  fraxinus  Americana,  cottonwood,  and  long-leaved  willow.  We  gave 
to  this  stream  the  name  of  Prairie  Dog  river.  Elevation  2,350  feet.  Our 
road  on  the  25th  lay  over  high  smooth  ridges,  3,100  feet  above  the  sea; 
buffalo  in  great  numbers,  absolutely  covering  the  face  of  the  country.  At 
evening  we  encamped  within  a few  miles  of  the  main  Republican,  on  a lit- 
| tie  creek,  where  the  air  was  fragrant  with  the  perfume  of  artemisia  filifolia , 
which  we  here  saw  for  the  first  time,  and  which  was  now  in  bloom.  Shortly 
after  leaving  our  encampment  on  the  26th,  we  found  suddenly  that  the  na- 
ture of  the  country  had  entirely  changed.  Bare  sand  hills  every  where  sur- 
; rounded  us  in  the  undulating  ground  along  which  we  were  moving;  and 
the  plants  peculiar  to  a sandy  soil  made  their  appearance  in  abundance.  A 
few  miles  further  we  entered  the  valley  of  a large  stream,  afterwards  known 
to  be  the  Republican  fork  of  the  Kansas,  whose  shallow  waters,  with  a 
depth  of  only  a few  inches,  were  spread  out  over  a bed  of  yellowish  white 
sand  600  yards  wide.  With  the  exception  of  one  or  two  distant  and  de- 
tached groves,  no  timber  of  any  kind  was  to  be  seen;  and  the  features  of 
the  country  assumed  a desert  character,  with  which  the  broad  river,  strug- 
gling for  existence  among  quicksands  along  the  treeless  banks,  was  strik- 


110 


[ 174  ] 

ingly  in  keeping.  On  the  opposite  side,  the  broken  ridges  assumed  almost  i 
a mountainous  appearance ; and,  fording  the  stream,  we  continued  on  our  i 
course  among  these  ridges,  and  encamped  late  in  the  evening  at  a little  pond 
of  very  bad  water,  from  which  we  drove  away  a herd  of  buffalo  that  were 
standing  in  and  about  it.  Our  encampment  this  evening  was  3,500  feet 
above  the  sea.  We  travelled  now  for  several  days  through  a broken  and  " 
dry  sandy  region,  about  4,000  feet  above  the  sea,  where  there  were  no  run- 
ning streams;  and  some  anxiety  was  constantly  felt  on  account  of  the  un- 
certainty of  water,  which  was  only  to  be  found  in  small  lakes  that  occur- 
red occasionally  among  the  hills.  The  discovery  of  these  always  brought 
pleasure  to  the  camp,  as  around  them  were  generally  green  flats,  which  af- 
forded abundant  pasturage  for  our  animals ; and  here  were  usually  collected 
herds  of  the  buffalo/ which  now  were  scattered  over  all  the  country  in 
countless  numbers. 

The  soil  of  bare  and  hot  sands  supported  a varied  and  exuberant  growth 
of  plants,  which  were  much  farther  advanced  than  we  had  previously  found 
them,  and  whose  showy  bloom  somewhat  relieved  the  appearance  of  gene- 
ral sterility.  Crossing  the  summit  of  an  elevated  and  continuous  range  of  , 
rolling  hills,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  30th  of  June  we  found  ourselves  over-  : 
looking  a broad  and  misty  valley,  where,  about  ten  miles  distant,  and  1,000 
feet  below  us,  the  South  fork  of  the  Platte  was  rolling  magnificently  along, 
swollen  with  the  waters  of  the  melting  snows.  It  was  in  strong  and  re- 
freshing contrast  with  the  parched  country  from  which  we  had  just  issued; 
and  when,  at  night,  the  broad  expanse  of  water  grew  indistinct,  it  almost 
seemed  that  we  had  pitched  our  tents  on  the  shore  of  the  sea. 

Travelling  along  up  the  valley  of  the  river,  here  4,000  feet  above  the  sea,  j 
in  the  afternoon  of  July  1 we  caught  a far  and  uncertain  view  of  a faint 
blue  mass  in  the  west,  as  the  sun  sank  behind  it ; and  from  our  camp  in  the 
morning,  at  the  mouth  of  Bijou,  Long’s  peak  and  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains stood  out  into  the  sky,  grand  and  luminously  white,  covered  to  their 
bases  with  glittering  snow. 

On  the  evening  of  the  3d,  as  we  were  journeying  along  the  partially  over- 
flowed bottoms  of  the  Platte,  where  our  passage  stirred  up  swarms  of  mos- 
quitoes, we  came  unexpectedly  upon  an  Indian,  who  was  perched  on  a 
bluff,  curiously  watching  the  movements  of  our  caravan.  He  belonged  to 
a village  of  Oglallah  Sioux,  who  had  lost  all  their  animals  in  the  severity 
of  the  preceding  winter,  and  were  now  on  their  way  up  the  Bijou  fork  to 
beg  horses  from  the  Arapahoes,  who  were  hunting  buffalo  at  the  head  of 
that  river.  Several  came  into  our  camp  at  noon  ; and,  as  they  were  hungry,  ‘ 
as  usual,  they  were  provided  with  buffalo  meat,  of  which  the  hunters  had 
brought  in  an  abundant  supply. 

About  noon,  on  the  4th  of  July,  we  arrived  at  the  fort,  where  Mr.  St. 
Vrain  received  us  with  his  customary  kindness,  and  invited  us  t©  join  him 
in  a feast  which  had  been  prepared  in  honor  of  the  day. 

Our  animals  were  very  much  worn  out,  and  our  stock  of  provisions  en- 
tirely exhausted  when  we  arrived  at  the  fort;  but  I was  disappointed  in  my 
hope  of  obtaining  relief,  as  I found  it  in  a very  impoverished  condition  ; and 
we  were  able  to  procure  only  a little  unbolted  Mexican  flour,  and  some 
salt,  with  a few  pounds  of  powder  and  lead. 

As  regarded  provisions,  it  did  not  much  matter  in  a country  where  rarely 
the  day  passed  without  seeing  some  kind  of  game,  and  where  it  was  fre- 
quently abundant.  It  was  a rare  thing  to  lie  down  hungry,  and  we  had  al- 


Ill 


[ 174  ] 

ready  learned  to  think  bread  a luxury ; but  we  could  not  proceed  without 
animals,  and  our  own  were  not  capable  of  prosecuting  the  journey  beyond 
the  mountains  without  relief. 

I had  been  informed  that  a large  number  of  mules  had  recently  arrived 
at  Taos,  from  Upper  California ; and  as  our  friend,  Mr.  Maxwell,  was 
about  to  continue  his  journey  to  that  place,  where  a portion  of  his  family 
resided,  I engaged  him  to  purchase  for  me  10  or  12  mules,  with  the  un- 
derstanding that  he  should  pack  them  with  provisions  and  other  necessa- 
ries, and  meet  me  at  the  mouth  of  the  Fontaine  qui  bouit , on  the  Arkan- 
sas river,  to  which  point  I would  be  led  in  the  course  of  the  survey. 

Agreeably  to  his  own  request,  and  in  the  conviction  that  his  habits  of 
life  and  education  had  not  qualified  him  to  endure  the  hard  life  of  a voy- 
ageur,  I discharged  here  one  of  my  party,  Mr.  Oscar  Sarpy,  having  furnished 
him  with  arms  and  means  of  transportation  to  Fort  Laramie,  where  he 
would  be  in  the  line  of  caravans  returning  to  the  States. 

At  daybreak,  on  the  6th  of  July,  Maxwell  was  on  his  way  to  Taos  ; and 
a few  hours  after  we  also  had  recommenced  our  journey  up  the  Platte, 
which  was  continuously  timbered  with  cottonwood  and  willow,  on  a gen- 
erally sandy  soil.  Passing  on  the  way  the  remains  of  two  abandoned 
forts,  (one  of  which,  however,  was  still  in  good  condition,)  we  reached,  in 
10  miles,  Fort  Lancaster,  the  trading  establishment  of  Mr.  Lupton.  Plis  post 
was  beginning  to  assume  the  appearance  of  a comfortable  farm : stock,  hogs, 
and  cattle,  were  ranging  about  on  the  prairie  ; there  were  different  kinds 
of  poultry  ; and  there  was  the  wreck  of  a promising  garden,  in  which  a 
considerable  variety  of  vegetables  had  been  in  a flourishing  condition,  but 
it  had  been  almost  entirely  ruined  by  the  recent  high  waters.  I remained 
to  spend  with  him  an  agreeable  hour,  and  sat  off  in  a cold  storm  of  rain, 
which  was  accompanied  with  violent  thunder  and  lightning.  We  encamped 
immediately  on  the  river,  16  miles  from  St.  Vrain’s.  Several  Arapahoes, 
on  their  way  to  the  village  which  was  encamped  a few  miles  above  us, 
passed  by  the  camp  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon.  Night  sat  in  stormy 
and  cold,  with  heavy  and  continuous  rain,  which  lasted  until  morning. 

July  7. — We  made  this  morning  an  early  start,  continuing  to  travel  up 
the  Platte  ; and  in  a few  miles  frequent  bands  of  horses  and  mules,  scatter- 
ed for  several  miles  round  about,  indicated  our  approach  to  the  Arapaho 
village,  which  we  found  encamped  in  a beautiful  bottom,  and  consisting  of 
about  160  lodges.  It  appeared  extremely  populous,  with  a great  number 
of  children;  a circumstance  which  indicated  a regular  supply  of  the  means 
of  subsistence.  The  chiefs,  who  were  gathered  together  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  village,  received  us  (as  probably  strangers  are  always  received  to 
whom  they  desire  to  show  respect  or  regard)  by  throwing  their  arms  around 
our  necks  and  embracing  us. 

It  required  some  skill  in  horsemanship  to  keep  the  saddle  during  the  per- 
formance of  this  ceremony,  as  our  American  horses  exhibited  for  them  the 
same  fear  they  have  for  a bear  or  any  other  wild  animal.  Having  very  few 
goods  with  me,  I was  only  able  to  make  them  a meager  present,  accounting 
for  the  poverty  of  the  gift  by  explaining  that  my  goods  had  been  left  with 
the  wagons  in  charge  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  who  was  well  known  to  them  as 
the  White  Head,  or  the  Broken  Hand.  I saw  here,  as  I had  remarked  in 
an  Arapaho  village  the  preceding  year,  near  the  lodges  of  the  chiefs,  tall 
tripods  of  white  poles  supporting  their  spears  and  shields,  which  showed  it 
to  be  a regular  custom. 


112 


[ 174  ] 

Though  disappointed  in  obtaining  the  presents  which  had  been  evident- 
ly expected,  they  behaved  very  courteously,  and,  after  a little  conversation,  V| 
I left  them,  and,  continuing  on  up  the  river,  halted  to  noon  on  the  bluff, 
as  the  bottoms  are  almost  inundated;  continuing  in  the  afternoon  our 
route  along  the  mountains,  which  were  dark,  misty,  and  shrouded — threat-  • 
ening  a storm  ; the  snow  peaks  sometimes  glittering  through  the  clouds  be- 
yond the  first  ridge. 

We  surprised  a grizzly  bear  sauntering  along  the  river  ; which,  raising 
himself  upon  his  hind  legs,  took  a deliberate  survey  of  us,  that  did  not  ap- 
pear very  satisfactory  to  him,  and  he  scrambled  into  the  river  and  swam 
to  the  opposite  side.  We  halted  for  the  night  a little  above  Cherry  creek  ; 
the  evening  cloudy,  with  many  mosquitoes.  Some  indifferent  observations  i 
placed  the  camp  in  latitude  39°  43'  53",  and  chronometric  longitude  105°  : 
24'  34". 

July  8. — We  continued  to-day  to  travel  up  the  Platte ; the  morning  pleas- 
ant, with  a prospect  of  fairer  weather.  During  the  forenoon  our  way  lay 
over  a more  broken  country,  with  a gravelly  and  sandy  surface  ; although 
the  immediate  bottom  of  the  river  was  a good  soil,  of  a dark  sandy  mould, 
resting  upon  a stratum  of  large  pebbles,  or  rolled  stones,  as  at  Laramie  fork. 
Op  our  right,  and  apparently  very  near,  but  probably  8 or  10  miles  distant, 
and  two  or  three  thousand  feet  above  us,  ran  the  first  range  of  the  moun- 
tains, like  a dark  corniced  line,  in  clear  contrast  with  the  great  snowy  chain 
which,  immediately  beyond,  rose  glittering  five  thousand  feet  above  them. 
We  caught  this  morning  a view  of  Pike’s  peak  : but  it  appeared  for  a mo- 
ment only,  as  clouds  rose  early  over  the  mountains,  and  shrouded  them  in 
mist  and  rain  all  the  day.  In  the  first  range  were  visible,  as  at  the  Red 
Buttes  on  the  North  fork,  very  lofty  escarpments  of  red  rock.  While  trav- 
elling through  this  region,  I remarked  that  always  in  the  morning  the  lofty 
peaks  were  visible  and  bright,  but  very  soon  small  white  clouds  began  to 
settle  around  them — brewing  thicker  and  darker  as  the  day  advanced,  until 
the  afternoon,  when  the  thunder  began  to  roll ; and  invariably  at  evening 
we  had  more  or  less  of  a thunder  storm.  At  1 1 o’clock,  and  21  miles  from 
St.  Yrain’s  fort,  we  reached  a point  in  this  southern  fork  of  the  Platte,  where 
the  stream  is  divided  into  three  forks;  two  of  these  (one  of  them  being  much 
the  largest)  issuing  directly  from  the  mountains  on  the  west,  and  forming, 
with  the  easternmost  branch,  a river  of  the  plains.  The  elevation  of  this 
point  is  about  5,500  feet  above  the  sea ; this  river  falling  2,800  feet  in  a 
distance  of  316  miles,  to  its  junction  with  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte.  In 
this  estimate,  the  elevation  of  the  junction  is  assumed  as  given  by  our  bar- 
ometrical observations  in  1842. 

On  the  easternmost  branch,  up  which  we  took  our  way,  we  first  came 
among  the  pines  growing  on  the  top  of  a very  high  bank,  and  where  we 
halted  on  it  to  noon  ; quaking  asp  ( populus  tremuloides ) was  mixed  with 
the  cottonwood,  and  there  were  excellent  grass  and  rushes  for  the  animals. 

During  the  morning  there  occurred  many  beautiful  flowers,  which  we 
had  not  hitherto  met.  Among  them,  the  common  blue  flowering  flax  made 
its  first  appearance  ; and  a tall  and  handsome  species  of  gilia , with  slender 
scarlet  flowers,  which  appeared  yesterday  for  the  first  time,  was  very  fre- 
quent to-day. 

We  had  found  very  little  game  since  leaving  the  fort,  and  provisions  be- 
gan to  get  unpleasantly  scant,  as  we  had  had  no  meat  for  several  days  ; but 
towards  sundown,  when  we  had. already  made  up  our  minds  to  sleep  another 


113 


[ 174} 

night  without  supper,  Lajeunesse  had  the  good  fortune  to  kill  a fine  deer, 
which  he  found  feeding  in  a hollow  near  by ; and  as  the  rain  began  to  fall, 
threatening  an  unpleasant  night,  we  hurried  to  secure  a comfortable  camp 
in  the  timber. 

To-night  the  camp  fires,  girdled  with  appolas  of  fine  venison,  looked 
cheerful  in  spite  of  the  stormy  weather. 

July  9. — On  account  of  the  low  state  of  our  provisions  and  the  scarcity 
of  game,  I determined  to  vary  our  route,  and  proceed  several  camps  to  the 
eastward,  in  the  hope  of  falling  in  with  the  buffalo.  This  route  along  the 
dividing  grounds  between  the  South  fork  of  the  Platte  and  the  Arkansas, 
would  also  afford  some  additional  geographical  information.  This  morning, 
therefore,  we  turned  to  the  eastward,  along  the  upper  waters  of  the  stream 
on  which  we  had  encamped,  entering  a country  of  picturesque  and  varied 
scenery ; broken  into  rocky  hills  of  singular  shapes ; little  valleys,  with 
pure  crystal  water,  here  leaping  swiftly  along,  and  there  losing  itself  in  the 
sands;  green  spots  of  luxuriant  grass,  flowers  of  all  colors,  and  timber  of 
different  kinds — every  thing  to  give  it  a varied  beauty,  except  game.  To 
one  of  these  remarkably  shaped  hills,  having  on  the  summit  a circular 
flat  rock  two  or  three  hundred  yards  in  circumference,  some  one  gave  the 
name  of  Poundcake,  which  it  has  been  permitted  to  retain,  as  our  hungry 
people  seemed  to  think  it  a very  agreeable  comparison.  In  the  afternoon 
a buffalo  bull  was  killed,  and  we  encamped  on  a small  stream,  near  the 
road  which  runs  from  St.  Vrain’s  fort  to  the  Arkansas. 

July  10. — Snow  fell  heavily  on  the  mountains  during  the  night,  and 
Pike’s  peak  this  morning  is  luminous  and  grand,  covered  from  the  summit,, 
as  low  down  as  we  can  see,  with  glittering  white.  Leaving  the  encamp- 
ment at  6 o’clock,  we  continued  our  easterly  course  over  a rolling  country, 
near  to  the  high  ridges,  which  are  generally  rough  and  rocky,  with  a coarse 
conglomerate  displayed  in  masses,  and  covered  with  pines.  This  rock  is 
very  friable,  and  it  is  undoubtedly  from  its  decomposition  that  the  prairies 
derive  their  sandy  and  gravelly  formation.  In  6 miles  we  crossed  a head 
water  of  the  Kioway  river,  on  which  we  found  a strong  fort  and  coral  that 
had  been  built  in  the  spring,  and  halted  to  noon  on  the  principal  branch  of 
the  river.  During  the  morning  our  route  led  over  a dark  vegetable  mould, 
mixed  with  sand  and  gravel,  the  characteristic  plant  being  esparcette,  ( ono - 
brychis  saliva ,)  a species  of  clover  which  is  much  used  in  certain  parts  of 
Germany  for  pasturage  of  stock — principally  hogs.  It  is  sown  on  rocky 
waste  ground,  which  would  otherwise  be  useless,  and  grows  very  luxu- 
riantly, requiring  only  a renewal  of  the  seed  about  once  in  fifteen  years. 
Its  abundance  here  greatly  adds  to  the  pastoral  value  of  this  region.  A 
species  of  antennaria  in  flower  was  very  common  along  the  line  of  road, 
and  the  creeks  were  timbered  with  willow  and  pine.  We  encamped  on 
Bijou’s  fork,  the  water  of  which,  unlike  the  clear  streams  we  had  previously 
crossed,  is  of  a whitish  color,  and  the  soil  of  the  bottom  a very  hard,  tough 
clay.  There  was  a prairie  dog  village  on  the  bottom,  and,  in  the  endeavor 
to  unearth  one  of  the  little  animals,  we  labored  ineffectually  in  the  tough 
clay  until  dark.  After  descending,  with  a slight  inclination,  until  it  had 
gone  the  depth  of  two  feet,  the  hole  suddenly  turned  at  a sharp  angle  ill 
another  direction  for  one  more  foot  in  depth,  when  it  again  turned,  taking 
an  ascending  direction  to  the  next  nearest  hole.  I have  no  doubt  that  all 
their  little  habitations  communicate  with  each  other.  The  greater  part  of 
8 1 


114 


[ 174  ] 

the  people  were  sick  to-day,  and  I was  inclined  to  attribute  their  indispo- ! 
sition  to  the  meat  of  the  bull  which  had  been  killed  the  previous  day. 

July  11. — There  were  no  indications  of  buffalo  having  been  recently  in 
the  neighborhood;  and,  unwilling  to  travel  farther  eastward,  I turned  this 
morning  to  the  southward,  up  the  valley  of  Bijou.  Esparcette  occurred  1 
universally,  and  among  the  plants  on  the  river  I noticed,  for  the  first  time 
during  this  journey,  a few  small  bushes  of  the  absinthe  of  the  voyageurs, 
which  is  commonly  used  for  fire  wood,  ( artemisia  tridental  a. ) Yesterday 
and  to-day  the  road  has  been  ornamented  with  the  showy  bloom  of  a beau- 
tiful lupin  us , a characteristic  in  many  parts  of  the  mountain  region,  on 
which  were  generally  great  numbers  of  an  insect  with  very  bright  colors, 
(lit l a vesicatoria.) 

As  we  were  riding  quietly  along,  eagerly  searching  every  hollow  in 
search  of  game,  we  discovered,  at  a little  distance  in  the  prairie,  a large 
grizzly  bear,  so  busily  engaged  in  digging  roots  that  he  did  not  perceive  us 
until  we  were  galloping  down  a little  hill  fifty  yards  from  him,  when  he 
charged  upon  us  with  such  sudden  energy,  that  several  of  us  came  near 
losing  our  saddles.  Being  wounded,  he  commenced  retreating  to  a rocky 
piney  ridge  near  by,  from  which  we  were  not  able  to  cut  him  off,  and  we 
entered  the  timber  with  him.  The  way  was  very  much  blocked  up  with 
fallen  timber ; and  we  kept  up  a running  fight  for  some  time,  animated  by 
the  bear  charging  among  the  horses.  He  did  not  fall  until  after  he  had 
received  six  rifle  balls.  He  was  miserably  poor,  and  added  nothing  to  our 
stock  of  provisions. 

We  followed  the  stream  to  its  head  in  a broken  ridge,  which,  according 
to  the  barometer,  was  about  7,500  feet  above  the  sea.  This  is  a piney  ele- 
vation, into  which  the  prairies  are  gathered,  and  from  which  the  waters 
flow,  in  almost  every  direction,  to  the  Arkansas,  Platte, and  Kansas  livers; 
the  latter  stream  having  here  its  remotest  sources.  Although  somewhat 
rocky  and  broken,  and  covered  with  pines,  in  comparison  with  the  neigh- 
boring mountains,  it  scarcely  forms  an  interruption  to  the  great  prairie 
plains  which  sweep  up  to  their  bases. 

The  annexed  view  of  Pike’s  peak  from  this  camp,  at  the  distance  of  40 
miles,  represents  very  correctly  the  manner  in  which  this  mountain  barrier 
presents  itself  to  travellers  on  the  plains,  which  sweep  almost  directly  to  its 
bases;  an  immense  and  comparatively  smooth  and  grassy  prairie,  in  very 
strong  contrast  with  the  black  masses  of  timber,  and  the  glittering  snow 
above  them.  This  is  the  picture  which  has  been  left  upon  my  mind;  arid 
I annex  this  sketch,  to  convey  to  you  the  same  impression.  With  occasional 
exceptions,  comparatively  so  very  small  as  not  to  require  mention,  these 
prairies  are  every  where  covered  with  a close  and  vigorous  growth  of  a 
great  variety  of  grasses,  among  which  the  most  abundant  is  the  buffalo  grass, 
(. sesleria  dactyloides.)  Between  the  Platte  and  Arkansas  rivers,  that  part 
of  this  region  which  forms  the  basin  drained  by  the  waters  of  the  Kansas, 
with  which  our  operations  made  us  more  particularly  acquainted,  is  based 
iipon  a formation  of  calcareous  rocks.  The  soil  of  all  this  country  is  ex- 
cellent, admirably  adapted  to  agricultural  purposes,  and  would  support  a 
large  agricultural  and  pastoral  population.  A glance  at  the  map  accompa- 
nying this  report,  along  our  several  lines  of  travel,  will  show  you  that  this 
plain  is  watered  by  many  streams.  Throughout  the  western  half  of  the 
plain,  these  are  shallow,  with  sandy  beds,  becoming  deeper  as  they  reach 
the  richer  lands  approaching  the  Missouri  river ; they  generally  have  bottom 


115 


[ 174  J 

lands,  bordered  by  bluffs  varying  from  50  to  500  feet  in  height.  In  all  this 
region  the  timber  is  entirely  confined  to  the  streams.  In  the  eastern  half, 
where  the  soil  is  a deep,  rich,  vegetable  mould,  retentive  of  rain  and  moist- 
ure, it  is  of  vigorous  growth,  and  of  many  different  kinds : and  throughout 
the  western  half  it  consists  entirely  of  various  species  of  cottonwood,  which 
deserves  to  be  called  the  tree  of  the  desert — growing  in  sandy  soils,  where 
no  other  tree  will  grow  ; pointing  out  the  existence  of  water,  and  furnishing 
to  the  traveller  fuel,  and  food  for  his  animals.  Add  to  this,  that  the  western 
border  of  the  plain  is  occupied  by  the  Sioux,  Arapaho,  and  Cheyenne  na- 
tions, and  the  Pawnees  and  other  half-civilized  tribes  in  its  eastern  limits,, 
for  whom  the  intermediate  country  is  a war  ground,  you  will  have  a toler- 
ably correct  idea  of  the  appearance  and  condition  of  the  country.  De- 
scending a somewhat  precipitous  and  rocky  hill  side  among  the  pines,  which 
rarely  appear  elsewhere  than  on  the  ridge,  we  encamped  at  its  foot,  where 
there  were  several  springs,  which  you  will  find  laid  down  upon  the  map  as 
one  of  the  extreme  sources  of  the  Smoky  Hill  fork  of  the  Kansas.  From  this 
place  the  view  extended  over  the  Arkansas  valley,  and  the  Spanish  peaks 
in  the  south  beyond.  As  the  greater  part  of  the  men  continued  sick,  I 
encamped  here  for  the  day,  and  ascertained  conclusively,  from  experiments 
on  mysAf,  that  their  illness  was  caused  by  the  meat  of  the  buffalo  bull. 

On  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  near  the  camp,  were  several  rock-built  forts, 
which  in  front  were  very  difficult  of  approach,  and  in  the  rear  were  pro- 
tected by  a precipice  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  a rifle  ball.  The  even- 
ing was  tolerably  clear,  with  a temperature  at  sunset  of  63°.  Elevation  of 
the  camp  7,300  feet. 

Turning  the  next  day  to  the  southwest,  we  reached,  in  the  course  of 
the  morning,  the  wagon  road  to  the  settlements  on  the  Arkansas  river,  and 
encamped  in  the  afternoon  on  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit  (or  Boiling  Spring} 
river,  where  it  was  50  feet  wide,  with  a swift  current.  I afterwards  found 
that  the  spring  and  river  owe  their  names  to  the  bubbling  of  the  efferves- 
cing gas  in  the  former,  and  not  to  the  temperature  of  the  water,  which  is 
cold.  During  the  morning,  a tall  species  of  gilia,  with  a slender  white 
flower,  was  characteristic;  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day,  another  vari- 
ety of  esparcette , (wild  clover,)  having  the  flower  white,  was  equally  so. 
We  had  a fine  sunset  of  golden  brown ; and,  in  the  evening,  a very  bright 
moon,  with  the  near  mountains,  made  a beautiful  scene.  Thermometer,  at. 
sunset,  was  69°,  and  our  elevation  above  the  sea  5,800  feet. 

July  13. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a northwesterly  breeze,  and  the 
thermometer  at  sunrise  at  46°.  There  were  no  clouds  along  the  moun- 
tains, and  the  morning  sun  showed  very  clearly  their  rugged  character. 

We  resumed  our  journey  very  early  down  the  river,  following  an  ex- 
tremely good  lodge  trail,  which  issues  by  the  head  of  this  stream  from  the 
bayou  Salade,  a high  mountain  valley  behind  Pike’s  peak.  The  soil  along 
the  road  was  sandy  and  gravelly,  and  the  river  well  timbered.  We  halted 
to  noon  under  the  shade  of  some  fine  large  cottonwoods,  our  animals  lux- 
uriating on  rushes  ( equisetum  hyemale^)  which,  along  this  river,  were  re- 
markably abundant.  A variety  of  cactus  made  its  appearance,  and  among 
several  strange  plants  were  numerous  and  beautiful  clusters  of  a plant 
resembling  mirabilis  jalapa,  with  a handsome  convolvulus  I had  not 
hitherto  seen,  ( calystegia .)  In  the  afternoon  we  passed  near  the  encamp- 
ment of  a hunter  named  Maurice,  who  had  been  out  into  the  plains  in  pur- 
suit of  buffalo  calves,  a number  of  which  I saw  among  some  domestic  cat- 


116 


[ 174  ] 

lie  near  his  lodge.  Shortly  afterwards,  a party  of  mountaineers  galloped 
up  to  us — fine-looking  and  hardy  men,  dressed  in  skins  and  mounted  oil 
good  fat  horses;  among  them  were  several  Connecticut  men,  a portion  of 
Wyeth’s  party,  whom  I had  seen  the  year  before,  and  others  were  men 
from  the  western  States. 

Continuing  down  the  river,  we  encamped  at  noon  on  the  14th  at  its 
mouth,  on  the  Arkansas  river.  A short  distance  above  our  encampment, 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  Arkansas,  is  a pueblo , (as  the  Mexicans  call  their 
civilized  Indian  villages,)  where  a number  of  mountaineers,  who  had  mar- 
ried Spanish  women  in  the  valley  of  Taos,  had  collected  together,  and  oc- 
cupied themselves  in  farming,  carrying  on  at  the  same  time  a desultory  In- 
dian trade.  They  were  principally  Americans,  and  treated  us  with  all  the 
rude  hospitality  their  situation  admitted  ; but  as  all  commercial  intercourse 
with  New  Mexico  was  now  interrupted,  in  consequence  of  Mexican  de- 
crees to  that  effect,  there  was  nothing  to  be  had  in  the  way  of  provisions. 
They  had,  however,  a fine  stock  of  cattle,  and  furnished  us  an  abundance 
of  excellent  milk.  I learned  here  that  Maxwell,  in  company  with  two 
other  men,  had  started  for  Taos  on  the  morning  of  the  9th,  but  that  he 
would  probably  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Utah  Indians,  commonly  called 
the  Spanish  Yules.  As  Maxwell  had  no  knowledge  of  their  being  in  the 
vicinity  when  he  crossed  the  Arkansas,  his  chance  of  escape  was  very 
doubtful ; but  I did  not  entertain  much  apprehension  for  his  life,  having 
great  confidence  in  his  prudence  and  courage.  I was  further  informed  that 
there  had  been  a popular  tumult  among  the  pueblos,  or  civilized  Indians, 
Tesiding  near  Taos,  against  the  u foreigners ” of  that  place,  in  which  they 
had  plundered  their  houses  and  ill-treated  their  families.  Among  those 
whose  property  had  been  destroyed,  was  Mr.  Beaubien,  father-in-law  of 
Maxwell,  from  whom  I had  expected  to  obtain  supplies,  and  who  had 
been  obliged  to  make  his  escape  to  Santa  Fe. 

By  this  position  of  affairs,  our  expectation  of  obtaining  supplies  from 
Taos  was  cut  off.  I had  here  the  satisfaction  to  meet  our  good  buffalo 
hunter  of  1843,  Christopher  Carson,  whose  services  I considered  myself 
fortunate  to  secure  again  ; and  as  a reinforcement  of  mules  was  absolutely 
necessary,  I despatched  him  immediately,  with  an  account  of  our  necessi- 
ties, to  Mr.  Charles  Bent,  whose  principal  post  is  on  the  Arkansas  river, 
about  75  miles  below  Fontaine-qui-bouit.  He  was  directed  to  proceed 
from  that  post  by  the  nearest  route  across  the  country,  and  meet  me  with 
what  animals  he  should  be  able  to  obtain  at  St.  V rain’s  fort.  I also  ad- 
mitted into  the  party  Charles  Towns — a native  of  St.  Louis,  a serviceable 
~ man,  with  many  of  the  qualities  of  a good  voyageur.  According  to  our  ob- 
servations, the  latitude  of  the  mouth  of  the  river  is  38°  15'  23";  its  longi- 
tude 104°  58'  30";  and  its  elevation  above  the  sea  4,880  feet. 

On  the  morning  of  the  16th,  the  time  for  Maxwell’s  arrival  having  ex- 
pired, we  resumed  our  journey,  leaving  for  him  a note,  in  which  it  was 
stated  that  I would  wait  for  him  at  St.  Vrain’s  fort  until  the  morning  of  the 
26th,  in  the  event  that  be  should  succeed  in  his  commission.  Our  direction 
was  up  the  Boiling  Spring  river,  it  being  my  intention  to  visit  the  celebrated 
springs  from  which  the  river  takes  its  name,  and  which  are  on  its  upper 
waters,  at  the  foot  of  Pike’s  peak.  Our  animals  fared  well  while  we  were 
on  this  stream,  there  being  every  where  a great  abundance  of  prele.  Ipo - 
mea  leptophylla , in  bloom,  was  a characteristic  plant  along  the  river,  gen- 
erally in  large  bunches,  with  two  to  five  flowers  on  each.  Beautiful  clus- 


117 


[ 174  ] 


ters  of  the  plant  resembling  mirabilis  jalapa  were  numerous,  and  gly- 
cyrrhiza  lepidota  was  a characteristic  of  the  bottoms.  Currants  nearly 
ripe  were  abundant,  and  among  the  shrubs  which  covered  the  bottom  was 
a very  luxuriant  growth  of  chenopodiaceous  shrubs,  four  to  six  feet  high. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  17th  we  entered  among  the  broken  ridges  at  the 
foot  of  the  mountains,  where  the  river  made  several  forks.  Leaving  the 
camp  to  follow  slowly,  I rode  ahead  in  the  afternoon  in  search  of  the  springs. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  clouds,  which  had  been  gathered  all  the  afternoon  over 
the  mountains,  began  to  roll  down  their  sides ; and  a storm  so  violent  burst 
upon  me,  that  it  appeared  I had  entered  the  storehouse  of  the  thunder 
storms.  I continued,  however,  to  ride  along  up  the  river  until  about  sunset, 
and  was  beginning  to  be  doubtful  of  finding  the  springs  before  the  next 
day,  when  1 came  suddenly  upon  a large  smooth  rock  about  twenty  yards 
in  diameter,  where  the  water  from  several  springs  was  bubbling  and  boiling 
up  in  the  midst  of  a white  incrustation  with  which  it  had  covered  a portion 
of  the  rock.  As  this  did  not  correspond  with  a description  given  me  by  the 
hunters,  I did  not  stop  to  taste  the  water,  but,  dismounting,  walked  a little 
way  up  the  river,  and,  passing  through  a narrow  thicket  of  shrubbery  bor- 
dering the  stream,  stepped  directly  upon  a huge  white  rock,  at  the  foot  of 
which  the  river,  already  become  a torrent,  foamed  along,  broken  by  a small 
fall.  A deer  whidh  had  been  drinking  at  the  spring  was  startled  by  my 
approach,  and,  springing  across  the  river,  bounded  off  up  the  mountain. 
In  the  upper  part  of  the  rock,  which  had  apparently  been  formed  by  depo- 
sition, was  a beautiful  white  basin,  overhung  by  currant  bushes,  in  which 
the  cold  clear  water  bubbled  up,  kept  in  constant  motion  by  the  escaping 
gas,  and  overflowing  the  rock,  which  it  had  almost  entirely  covered  with 
a smooth  crust  of  glistening  white.  I had  all  day  refrained  from  drink- 
ing, reserving  myself  for  the  spring;  and  as  I could  not  well  be  more  wet 
than  the  rain  had  already  made  me,  I lay  down  by  the  side  of  the  basin, 
and  drank  heartily  of  the  delightful  water.  The  annexed  sketch  is  only  a 
rude  one,  but  it  will  enable  you  to  form  some  idea  of  the  character  of  the 
scenery  and  the  beauty  of  this  spot,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  lofty  moun- 
tains, beautifully  timbered,  which  sweep  closely  round,  shutting  up  the 
little  valley  in  a kind  of  cove.  As  it  was  beginning  to  grow  dark,  I rode 
quickly  down  the  river,  on  which  I found  the  camp  a few  miles  below. 

The  morning  of  the  18th  was  beautiful  and  clear,  and,  all  the  people 
being  anxious  to  drink  of  these  famous  waters,  we  encamped  immediately 
at  the  springs,  and  spent  there  a very  pleasant  day.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  is  another  locality  of  springs,  which  are  entirely  of  the  same 
nature.  The  water  has  a very  agreeable  taste,  which  Mr.  Preuss  found  very 
much  to  resemble  that  of  the  famous  Seller  springs  in  the  grand  duchy  of 
Nassau,  a country  famous  for  wine  and  mineral  waters;  and  it  is  almost 
entirely  of  the  same  character,  though  still  more  agreeable  than  that  of  the 
famous  Bear  springs,  near  Bear  river  of  the  Great  Salt  lake.  The  follow- 
ing is  an  analysis  of  an  incrustation  with  which  the  water  had  covered  a 
piece  of  wood  lying  on  the  rock  : 

Carbonate  of  lime  - - - - 92.25 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  - - - - -1.21 

Sulphate  of  lime 


Chloride  of  calcium 
Chloride  of  magnesia 


.23 


118 


[ 174  ] 

Silica  -------  1.50 

Vegetable  matter  ------  .20 

Moisture  and  loss  - - - - - 4.61 


100.00 


At  1 1 o’clock,  when  the  temperature  of  the  air  was  73°,  that  of  the 
water  in  this  was  60.5°;  and  that  of  the  upper  spring,  which  issued  from 
the  flat  rock,  more  exposed  to  the  sun,  was  69°.  At  sunset,  when  the  tem- 
perature of  the  air  was  66°,  that  of  the  lower  springs  was  58°,  and  that  of 
the  upper  61°. 

July  19. — A beautiful  and  clear  morning,  with  a slight  breeze  from  the 
northwest ; the  temperature  of  air  at  sunrise  being  57.5°.  At  this  time 
the  temperature  of  the  lower  spring  was  57.8°,  and  that  of  the  upper 
54.3°. 

The  trees  in  the  neighborhood  were  birch,  willow,  pine,  and  an  oak  re- 
sembling quercus  alba.  In  the  shrubbery  along  the  river  are  currant  bushes, 
(vibes,)  of  which  the  fruit  has  a singular  piney  flavor  ; and  on  the  mountain 
side,  in  a red  gravelly  soil,  is  a remarkable  coniferous  tree,  (perhaps  an 
abies,)  having  the  leaves  singulary  long,  broad,  and  scattered,  with  bushes 
of  spiraea  arisefolia.  By  our  observations,  this  place  is  6,350  feet  above 
the  sea,  in  latitude  38°  52'  10",  and  longitude  105°  22'  45". 

Resuming  our  journey  on  this  morning,  we  descended  the  river,  in  order 
lo  reach  the  mouth  of  the  eastern  fork,  which  I proposed  to  ascend.  The 
4eft  bank  of  the  river  here  is  very  much  broken.  There  is  a handsome 
little  bottom  on  the  right,  and  both  banks  are  exceedingly  picturesque — 
strata  of  red  rock,  in  nearly  perpendicular  walls,  crossing  the  valley  from 
north  to  south.  About  three  miles  below  the  springs,  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  river,  is  a nearly  perpendicular  limestone  rock,  presenting  a uniformly 
unbroken  surface,  twenty  to  forty  feet  high,  containing  very  great  numbers 
of  a large  univalve  shell,  which  appears  to  belong  to  the  genus  inoceramas, 
and  in  the  appendix  is  designated  by  the  No.  42. 

In  contact  with  this,  to  the  westward,  was  another  stratum  of  limestone, 
containing  fossil  shells  of  a different  character ; and  still  higher  up  on  the 
stream  were  parallel  strata,  consisting  of  a compact  somewhat  crystalline 
limestone,  and  argillaceous  bituminous  limestone  in  thin  layers.  During 
the  morning,  we  travelled  up  the  eastern  fork  of  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit 
river,  our  road  being  roughened  by  frequent  deep  gullies  timbered  with 
pine,  and  halted  to  noon  on  a small  branch  of  this  stream,  timbered  prin- 
cipally with  the  narrow-leaved  cottonwood,  ( populus  angustifolia ,)  called 
by  the  Canadians  Hard  arnlre . On  a hill,  near  by,  were  two  remarkable 
columns  of  a grayish-white  conglomerate  rock,  one  of  which  was  about 
twenty  feet  high,  and  two  feet  in  diameter.  They  are  surmounted  by  slabs 
of  a dark  ferruginous  conglomerate,  forming  black  caps,  and  adding  very 
much  to  their  columnar  effect  at  a distance.  This  rock  is  very  destructible 
by  the  action  of  the  weather,  and  the  hill,  of  which  they  formerly  consti- 
tuted a part,  is  entirely  abraded. 

A shaft  of  the  gun  carriage  was  broken  in  the  afternoon  ; and  we  made 
an  early  halt,  the  stream  being  from  twelve  to  twenty  feet  wide,  with  clear 
water.  As  usual,  the  clouds  had  gathered  to  a storm  over  the  mountains, 
and  we  had  a showery  evening.  At  sunset  the  thermometer  stood  at  62°, 
and  our  elevation  above  the  sea  was  6,530  feet. 


119 


[ 174  J 

July  20. — This  morning  (as  we  generally  found  the  mornings  under 
these  mountains)  was  very  clear  and  beautiful,  and  the  air  cool  and  pleas- 
ant, with  the  thermometer  at  44°.  We  continued  our  march  up  the  stream, 
along  a green  sloping  bottom,  between  pine  hills  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
main  Black  hills  on  the  other,  towards  the  ridge  which  separates  the  waters 
of  the  Platte  from  those  of  the  Arkansas.  As  we  approached  the  dividing 
ridge,  the  whole  valley  was  radiant  with  flowers  ; blue,  yellow,  pink,  white, 
scarlet,  and  purple,  vied  with  each  other  in  splendor.  Esparcette  was  one 
of  the  highly  characteristic  plants,  and  a bright-looking  flower  ( gaillardia 
arislata ) was  very  frequent ; but  the  most  abundant  plant  along  our  road 
to-day  was  geranium  macula  turn , which  is  the  characteristic  plant  on  this 
portion  of  the  dividing  grounds.  Crossing  to  the  waters  of  the  Platte,  fields 
of  blue  flax  added  to  the  magnificence  of  this  mountain  garden;  this  was 
occasionally  four  feet  in  height,  which  was  a luxuriance  of  growth  that  I 
rarely  saw  this  almost  universal  plant  attain  throughout  the  journey.  Con- 
tinuing down  a branch  of  the  Platte,  among  high  and  very  steep  timbered 
hills,  covered  with  fragments  of  rock,  towards  evening  we  issued  from  the 
piney  region,  and  made  a late  encampment  near  Poundcake  rock,  on  that 
fork  of  the  river  which  we  had  ascended  on  the  8th  of  July.  Our  animals 
enjoyed  the  abundant  rushes  this  evening,  as  the  flies  were  so  bad  among 
the  pines  that  they  had  been  much  harassed.  A .deer  was  killed  here  this 
evening;  and  again  the  evening  was  overcast, and  a collection  of  brilliant 
red  clouds  in  the  west  was  followed  by  the  customary  squall  of  rain. 

Jlchillea  millefolium  (milfoil)  was  among  the  characteristic  plants  of 
the  river  bottoms  to-day.  This  was  one  of  the  most  common  plants  during 
the  whole  of  our  journey,  occurring  in  almost  every  variety  of  situation. 

I noticed  it  on  the  lowlands  of  the  rivers,  near  the  coast  of  the  Pacific,  and 
near  to  the  snow  among  the  mountains  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

During  this  excursion,  we  had  surveyed  to  its  head  one  of  the  two  prin- 
cipal branches  of  the  upper  Arkansas,  75  miles  in  length,  and  entirely 
completed  our  survey  of  the  South  fork  of  the  Platte,  to  the  extreme  sources 
of  that  portion  of  the  river  which  belongs  to  the  plains,  and  heads  in  the 
broken  hills  of  the  Arkansas  dividing  ridge,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains. 
That  portion  of  its  waters  which  were  collected  among  these  mountains,  it 
was  hoped  to  explore  on  our  homeward  voyage. 

Reaching  St.  Vrain’s  fort  on  the  morning  of  the  23d,  we  found  Mr.  Fitz- 
patrick and  his  party  in  good  order  and  excellent  health,  and  my  true  and 
reliable  friend,  Kit.  Carson,  who  had  brought  with  him  ten  good  mules,  with 
the  necessary  pack  saddles.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  who  had  often  endured  every 
extremity  of  want  during  the  course  of  his  mountain  life,  and  knew  well 
the  value  of  provisions  in  this  country,  had  watched  over  our  stock  with 
jealous  vigilance,  and  there  was  an  abundance  of  flour,  rice,  sugar,  and 
coffee, in  the  camp  ; and  again  we  fared  luxuriously.  Meat  was,  however, 
very  scarce ; and  two  very  small  pigs,  which  we  obtained  at  the  fort,  did 
not  go  far  among  forty  men.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  had  been  here  a week,  dur- 
ing which  time  his  men  had  been  occupied  in  refitting  the  camp  ; and  the 
repose  had  been  very  beneficial  to  his  animals,  which  were  now  in  tolera- 
bly good  condition. 

I had  been  able  to  obtain  no  certain  information  in  regard  to  the  charac- 
ter of  the  passes  in  this  portion  of  the  Rocky  mountain  range,  which  had 
always  been  represented  as  impracticable  for  carriages,  but  the  exploration 
of  which  was  incidentally  contemplated  by  my  instructions,  with  the  view 


120 


C H4  ] 

of  finding  some  convenient  point  of  passage  for  the  road  of  emigration, 
which  would  enable  it  to  reach,  on  a more  direct  line,  the  usual  ford  of 
the  Great  Colorado — a place  considered  as  determined  by  the  nature  of  the 
country  beyond  that  river.  It  is  singular  that,  immediately  at  the  foot  of 
the  mountains,  I could  find  no  one  sufficiently  acquainted  with  them  to 
guide  us  to  the  plains  at  their  western  base ; but  the  race  of  trappers,  who 
formerly  lived  in  their  recesses,  has  almost  entirely  disappeared — dwindled 
to  a few  scattered  individuals— some  one  or  two  of  whom  are  regularly 
killed  in  the  course  of  each  year  by  the  Indians.  You  will  remember  that, 
in  the  previous  year,  I brought  with  me  to  their  village  near  this  post,  and 
hospitably  treated  on  the  way,  several  Cheyenne  Indians,  whom  I had  met 
on  the  Lower  Platte.  Shortly  after  their  arrival  here,  these  were  out  with 
a party  of  Indians,  (themselves  the  principal  men,)  which  discovered  a few 
trappers  in  the  neighboring  mountains,  whom  they  immediately  murdered, 
although  one  of  them  had  been  nearly  thirty  years  in  the  country,  and  was 
perfectly  well  known,  as  he  had  grown  gray  among  them. 

Through  this  portion  of  the  mountains,  also,  are  the  customary  roads  of 
the  war  parties  going  out  against  the  Utah  and  Shoshonee  Indians;  and 
occasionally  parties  from  the  Crow  nation  make  their  way  down  to  the 
southward  along  this  chain,  in  the  expectation  of  surprising  some  strag- 
gling lodges  of  their  enemies.  Shortly  before  our  arrival,  one  of  thei»  par- 
ties had  attacked  an  Arapaho  village  in  the  vicinity,  which  they  had  found 
unexpectedly  strong;  and  their  assault  was  turned  into  a rapid  flight  and 
a hot  pursuit,  in  which  they  had  been  compelled  to  abandon  the  animals 
they  had  rode,  and  escape  on  their  war  horses. 

Into  this  uncertain  and  dangerous  region,  small  parties  of  three  or  four 
trappers,  who  now  could  collect  together,  rarely  ventured;  and  consequently 
it  was  seldom  visited  and  little  known.  Having  determined  to  try  the 
passage  by  a pass  through  a spur  of  the  mountains  made  #y  the  Cache-a- 
la Poudre  river,  which  rises  in  the  high  bed  of  mountains  around  Long’s 
peak,  I thought  it  advisable  to  avoid  any  encumbrance  which  would  oc- 
casion detention,  and  accordingly  again  separated  the  party  into  two  divi- 
sions— one  of  which,  under  the  command  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  was.directed 
to  cross  the  plains  to  the  mouth  of  Laramie  river,  and,  continuing  thence 
its  route  along  the  usual  emigrant  road,  meet  me  at  Fort  Hall,  a post  be- 
longing to  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  and  situated  on  Snake  river,  as  it  is 
commonly  called  in  the  Oregon  Territory,  although  better  known  to  us  as 
Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Columbia.  The  latter  name  is  there  restricted  to  one 
of  the  upper  forks  of  the  river. 

Our  Delaware  Indians  having  determined  to  return  to  their  homes,  it  be- 
came necessary  to  provide  this  party  with  a good  hunter ; and  I accordingly 
engaged  in  that  capacity  Alexander  Godey,  a young  man  about  25  years 
of  age,  who  had  been  in  this  country  six  or  seven  years,  all  of  which  time 
had  been  actively  employed  in  hunting  for  the  support  of  the  posts,  or  in 
solitary  trading  expeditions  among  the  Indians.  In  courage  and  profes- 
sional skill  he  was  a formidable  rival  to  Carson,  and  constantly  afterwards 
was  among  the  best  and  most  efficient  of  the  party,  and  in  difficult  situa- 
tions was  of  incalculable  value.  Hiram  Powers,  one  of  the  men  belonging 
to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick’s  party,  was  discharged  at  this  place. 

A French  engage,  at  Lupton’s  fort,  had  been  shot  in  the  back  on  the  4th 
of  July,  and  died  during  our  absence  to  the  Arkansas.  The  wife  of  the 
murdered  man,  an  Indian  woman  of  the  Snake  nation,  desirous,  like  Naomi 


121 


[ 174  ] 

of  old,  to  return  to  her  people,  requested  and  obtained  permission  to  travel 
with  my  party  to  the  neighborhood  of  Bear  river,  where  she  expected  to 
meet  with  some  of  their  villages.  Happier  than  the  Jewish  widow,  she 
carried  with  her  two  children,  pretty  little  half-breeds,  who  added  much  to 
the  liveliness  of  the  camp.  Her  baggage  was  carried  on  five  or  six  pack 
horses;  and  I gave  her  a small  tent, for  which  I no  longer  had  any  use,  as 
I had  procured  a lodge  at  the  fort. 

For  my  own  party  I selected  the  following  men,  a number  of  whom  old 
associations  rendered  agreeable  to  me: 

Charles  Preuss,  Christopher  Carson,  Basil  Lajeunesse,  Frangois  Badeau, 
J.  B.  Bernier,  Louis  Menard,  Raphael  Prone,  Jacob  Dodson,  Louis  Zindel, 
Henry  Lee,  J.  B.  Derosier,  Frangois  Lajeunesse,  and  Auguste  Vasquez. 

By  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  post  is  40°  16'  33",  and  its  longitude 
105°  12'  23",  depending,  with  all  the  other  longitudes  along  this  portion  of 
the  line,  upon  a subsequent  occultation  of  September  13,  1843,  to  which 
they  are  referred  by  the  chronometer.  Its  distance  from  Kansas  landing, 
by  the  road  we  travelled,  (which,  it  will  be  remembered,  was  very  winding 
along  the  lower  Kansas  river,)  was  750  miles.  The  rate  of  the  chronometer, 
determined  by  observations  at  this  place  for  the  interval  of  our  absence, 
during  this  month,  was  33.72",  which  you  will  hereafter  see  did  not  sensibly 
change  during  the  ensuing  month,  and  remained  nearly  constant  during 
the  remainder  of  our  journey  across  the  continent.  This  was  the  rate  used 
in  referring  to  St  Vrain’s  fort,  the  longitude  between  that  place  and  the 
mouth  of  the  Fontaine- qui-bouit . 

Our  various  barometrical  observations,  which  are  better  worthy  of  con- 
fidence than  the  isolated  determination  of  1S42,  give,  for  the  elevation  of 
the  fort  above  the  sea,  4,930  feet.  The  barometer  here  used  was  also  a 
better  one,  and  less  liable  to  derangement. 

At  the  end  of  two  days,  which  was  allowed  to  my  animals  for  necessary 
repose,  all  the  arrangements  had  been  completed,  and  on  the  afternoon  of 
the  26th  we  resumed  our  respective  routes.  Some  little  trouble  was  ex- 
perienced in  crossing  the  Platte,  the  waters  of  which  were  still  kept  up  by 
rains  and  melting  snow  ; and  having  travelled  only  about  four  miles,  we 
encamped  in  the  evening  on  Thompson’s  creek,  where  we  were  very  much 
disturbed  by  musquitoes. 

The  following  days  we  continued  our  march  westward  over  comparative 
plains,  and,  fording  the  Cache-d-la-Poudre  on  the  morning  of  the  28th,  en- 
tered the  Black  hills,  and  nooned  on  this  stream  in  the  mountains  beyond 
them.  Passing  over  a fine  large  bottom  in  the  afternoon,  we  reached  a 
place  where  the  river  was  shut  up  in  the  hills ; and,  ascending  a ravine, 
made  a laborious  and  very  difficult  passage  around  by  a gap,  striking  the 
river  again  about  dusk.  A little  labor,  however,  would  remove  this  diffi- 
culty, and  render  the  road  to  this  point  a very  excellent  one.  The  evening 
closed  in  dark  with  rain,  and  the  mountains  looked  gloomy. 

July  29. — Leaving  our  encampment  about  7 in  the  morning,  we  travelled 
until  3 in  the  afternoon  along  the  river,  which,  for  this  distance  of  about 
six  miles,  runs  directly  through  a spur  of  the  main  mountains. 

We  were  compelled  by  the  nature  of  the  ground  to  cross  the  river  eight 
or  nine  times,  at  difficult,  deep,  and  rocky  fords,  the  stream  running  with 
great  force,  swollen  by  the  rains — a true  mountain  torrent,  only  forty  or 
fifty  feet  wide.  It  was  a mountain  valley  of  the  narrowest  kind — almost 
a chasm;  and  the  scenery  very  wild  and  beautiful.  Towering  mountains  rose 


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round  about  ; their  sides  sometimes  dark  with  forests  of  pine,  and  sometimes 
with  lofty  precipices,  washed  by  the  river;  while  below,  as  if  they  indem- 
nified themselves  in  luxuriance  for  the  scanty  space,  the  green  river  bot- 
tom was  covered  with  a wilderness  of  flowers,  their  tall  spikes  sometimes 
rising  above  our  heads  as  we  rode  among  them.  A profusion  of  blossoms  , 
on  a white  flowering  vine,  {clematis  lasianthi,)  which  was  abundant  along 
the  river,  contrasted  handsomely  with  the  green  foliage  of  the  trees.  The 
mountain  appeared  to  be  composed  of  a greenish  gray  and  red  granite,  which 
in  some  places  appeared  to  be  in  a state  of  decomposition,  making  a red  soil. 

The  stream  was  wooded  with  cottonwood,  box  elder,  and  cherry,  with 
currant  and  serviceberry  bushes.  After  a somewhat  laborious  day,  during 
which  it  had  rained  incessantly,  we  encamped  near  the  end  of  the  pass  at 
the  mouth  of  a small  creek,  in,  sight  of  the  great  Laramie  plains.  It  con- 
tinued to  rain  heavily,  and  at  evening  the  mountains  were  hid  in  mists; 
but  there  was  no  lack  of  wood,  and  the  large  fires  we  made  to  dry  our 
clothes  were  very  comfortable;  and  at  night  the  hunters  came  in  with  a 
fine  deer.  Rough  and  difficult  as  we  found  the  pass  to-day,  an  excellent 
road  may  be  made  with  a little  labor.  Elevation  of  the  camp  5,540  feet, 
and  distance  from  St.  Vrain’s  fort  56  miles. 

July  30. — The  day  was  bright  again  ; the  thermometer  at  sunrise  52°; 
and  leaving  our  encampment  at  8 o’clock,  in  about  half  a mile  we  crossed 
the  Cdche-d-la-Poudre  river  for  the  last  time;  and,  entering  a smoother 
country,  we  travelled  along  a kind  of  vallon , bounded  on  the  right  by  red 
buttes  and  precipices,  while  to  the  left  a high  rolling  country  extended  to  a 'i 
range  of  the  Black  hills,  beyond  which  rose  the  great  mountains  around 
Long’s  peak. 

By  the  great  quantity  of  snow  visible  among  them,  it  had  probably  snow- 
ed heavily  there  the  previous  day,  while  it  had  rained  on  us  in  the  valley. 

We  halted  at  noon  on  a small  branch  ; and  in  the  afternoon  travelled 
over  a high  country,  gradually  ascending  towards  a range  of  buttes , or 
high  hills  covered  with  pines,  which  forms  the  dividing  ridge  between  the 
waters  we  had  left  and  those  of  Laramie  river. 

Late  in  the  evening  we  encamped  at  a spring  of  cold  water,  near  the 
summit  of  the  ridge,  having  increased  our  elevation  to  7,520  feet.  During 
the  day  we  had  travelled  24  miles.  By  some  indifferent  observations,  our 
latitude  is  41°  02'  19".  A species  of  hedeome  was  characteristic  along  the 
whole  day’s  route. 

Emerging  from  the  mountains,  we  entered  a region  of  bright,  fair 
Aveather.  In  my  experience  in  this  country,  I was  forcibly  impressed  with 
the  different  character  of  the  climate  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Rocky  moun- 
tain range.  The  vast  prairie  plain  on  the  east  is  like  the  ocean  ; the  rain 
and  clouds  from  the  constantly  evaporating  snow  of  the  mountains  rushing 
down  into  the  heated  air  of  the  plains,  on  which  you  will  have  occasion  to 
remark  the  frequent  storms  of  rain  Ave  encountered  during  our  journey. 

July  31. — The  morning  Avas  clear  ; temperature  48°.  A fine  rolling  road, 
among  piney  and  grassy  hills,  brought  us  this  morning  into  a large  trail 
where  an  Indian  village  had  recently  passed.  The  Aveather  Avas  pleasant 
and  cool ; Ave  were  disturbed  by  neither  musquitoes  nor  flies;  and  the 
country  Avas  certainly  extremely  beautiful.  The  slopes  and  broad  ravines 
were  absolutely  covered  with  fields  of  flowers  of  the  most  exquisitely  beauti- 
ful colors.  Among  those  which  had  not  hitherto  made  their  appearance,  and 
Avhich  here  were  characteristic,  was  a new  delphinium , of  a green  and 


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lustrous  metallic  blue  color,  mingled  with  compact  fields  of  several  bright- 
colored  varieties  of  astragalus , which  were  crowded  together  in  splendid 
profusion.  This  trail  conducted  us  through  a remarkable  defile,  to  a little 
timbered  creek,  up  which  we  wound  our  way,  passing  by  a singular  and 
massive  wall  of  dark-red  granite.  The  formation  of  the  country  is  a red 
feldspathic  granite,  overlying  a decomposing  mass  of  the  same  rock,  form- 
ing the  soil  of  all  this  region,  which  every  where  is  red  and  gravelly,  and 
appears  to  be  of  a great  floral  fertility. 

As  we  emerged  on  a small  tributary  of  the  Laramie  river,  coming  in 
sight  of  its  principal  stream,  the  flora  became  perfectly  magnificent ; and 
we  congratulated  ourselves,  as  we  rode  along  our  pleasant  road,  that  we 
had  substituted  this  for  the  uninteresting  country  between  Laramie  hills 
and  the  Sweet  Water  valley.  We  had  no  meat  for  supper  last  night  or 
breakfast  this  morning,  and  were  glad  to  see  Carson  come  in  at  noon  with 
a good  antelope. 

A meridian  observation  of  the  sun  placed  us  in  latitude  41°  04'  06"  In 
the  evening,  we  encamped  on  the  Laramie  river,  which  is  here  very  thinly 
timbered  with  scattered  groups  of  cottonwood  at  considerable  intervals. 
From  our  camp,  we  are  able  to  distinguish  the  gorges,  in  which  are  the 
sources  of  Cache-a-la-Poudre  and  Laramie  rivers ; and  the  Medicine  Bow 
mountain,  toward  the  point  of  which  we  are  directing  our  course  this  after- 
noon, has  been  in  sight  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  By  observation,  the 
latitude  was  41°  15'  02",  and  longitude  106°  16'  54".  The  same  beautiful 
flora  continued  till  about  4 in  the  afternoon,  when  it  suddenly  disappeared, 
with  the  red  soil,  which  became  sandy  and  of  a whitish-gray  color.  The 
evening  was  tolerably  clear;  temperature  at  sunset  64°.  The  day’s  jour- 
ney was  30  miles. 

August  1. — The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  sunrise  temperature 
at  42°.  We  travelled  to-day  over  a plain,  or  open  rolling  country,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Medicine  Bow  mountain;  the  soil  in  the  morning  being  sandy, 
with  fragments  of  rock  abundant ; and  in  the  afternoon,  when  we  ap- 
proached closer  to  the  mountain,  so  stony  that  we  made  but  little  way. 
The  beautiful  plants,  of  yesterday  reappeared  occasionally;  flax  in  bloom 
occurred  during  the  morning,  and  esparcette  in  luxuriant  abundance  wasa 
characteristic  of  the  stony  ground  in  the  afternoon.  The  camp  was  roused 
into  a little  excitement  by  a chase  after  a buffalo  bull,  and  an  encounter 
with  a war  party  of  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  Indians  about  30  strong.  Hares 
and  antelope  were  seen  during  the  day,  and  one  of  the  latter  was  killed. 
The  Laramie  peak  was  in  sight  this  afternoon.  The  evening  was 
clear,  with  scattered  clouds:  temperature  62°.  The  day’s  journey  was  26 
miles.  . v 

August  2. — Temperature  at  sunrise  52°,  and  scenery  and  weather  made 
our  road  to-day  delightful.  The  neighboring  mountain  is  thickly  studded 
with  pines,  intermingled  with  the  brighter  foliage  of  aspens,  and  occasional 
spots  like  lawns  between  the  patches  of  snow  among  the  pines,  and  here 
and  there  on  the  heights.  Our  route  below  lay  over  a comparative  plain, 
covered  with  the  same  brilliant  vegetation,  and  the  day  was  clear  and  pleas- 
antly cool.  During  the  morning,  we  crossed  many  streams,  clear  and  rocky, 
and  broad  grassy  valleys,  of  a strong  black  soil,  washed  down  from  the 
mountains,  and  producing  excellent  pasturage.  These  were  timbered  with 
the  red  willow  and  long-leaved  cottonwood,  mingled  with  aspen,  as  we  ap- 
proached the  mountain  more  nearly  towards  noon.  Esparcette  was  a char- 


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acteristic,  and  flax  occurred  frequently  in  bloom.  We  halted  at  noon  on 
the  most  western  fork  of  Laramie  river — a’ handsome  stream  about  sixty 
feet  wide  and  two  feet  deep,  with  clear  water  and  a swift  current,  over  a 
bed  composed  entirely  of  boulders  or  roll  stones.  There  was  a large  open 
bottom  here,  on  which  were  many  lodge  poles  lying  about ; and  in  the 
edge  of  the  surrounding  timber  were  three  strong  forts,  that  appeared  to 
have  been  recently  occupied.  At  this  place  I became  first  acquainted  with 
the  yampah , ( anethum  graveolens ,)  which  I found  our  Snake  woman  en- 
gaged in  digging  in  the  low  timbered  bottom  of  the  creek.  Among  the  In- 
dians along  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  more  particularly  among  the  Sho- 
shonee  or  Snake  Indians,  in  whose  territory  it  is  very  abundant,  this  is 
considered  the  best  among  the  roots  used  for  food.  *To  us,  it  was  an  in- 
teresting plant — a little  link  between  the  savage  and  civilized  life.  Here, 
among  the  Indians,  its  root  is  a common  article  of  food,  which  they  take 
pleasure  in  offering  to  strangers;  while  with  us,  in  a considerable  portion 
of  America  and  Europe,  the  seeds  are  used  to  flavor  soup.  It  grows  more 
abundantly,  and  in  greater  luxuriance,  on  one  of  the  neighboring  tributa- 
ries of  the  Colorado  than  in  any  other  part  of  this  region  ; and  on  that 
stream,  to  which  the  Snakes  are  accustomed  to  resort  every  year  to  procure 
a supply  of  their  favorite  plant,  they  have  bestowed  the  name  of  Yampah 
river.  Among  the  trappeis,  it  is  generally  known  as  Little  Snake  river; 
but  in  this  and  other  instances,  where  it  illustrated  the  history  of  the  peo- 
ple inhabiting  the  country,  I have  preferred  to  retain  on  the  map  the  abo- 
riginal name.  By  a meridional  observation,  the  latitude  is  41°  45'  59". 

In  the  afternoon  we  took  our  way  directly  across  the  spurs  from  the 
point  of  the  mountain,  where  we  had  several  ridges  to  cross  ; and,  al- 
though the  road  was  not  rendered  bad  by  the  nature  of  the  ground,  it  was 
made  extremely  rough  by  the  stiff  tough  bushes  of  artemisin  tridentata ,* 
in  this  country  commonly  called  sage. 

This  shrub  now  began  to  make  its  appearance  in  compact  fields ; and 
we  were  about  to  quit  for  a long  time  this  country  of  excellent  pasturage 
and  brilliant  flowers.  Ten  or  twelve  buffalo  bulls  were  seen  during  the 
afternoon ; and  we  were  surprised  by  the  appearance  of  a large  red  ox. 
We  gathered  around  him  as  if  he  had  been  an  old  acquaintance,  with  all 
our  domestic  feelings  as  much  awakened  as  if  we  had  come  in  sight  of  an 
old  farm  house.  He  had  probably  made  his  escape  from  some  party  of 
emigrants  on  Green  river;  and,  with  a vivid  remembrance  of  some  old 
green  field,  he  was  pursuing  the  straightest  course  for  the  frontier  that  the 
country  admitted.  We  carried  him  along  with  us  as  a prize;  and,  when 
it  was  found  in  the  morning  that  he  had  wandered  off,  I would  not  let  him 
be  pursued,  for  I would  rather  have  gone  through  a starving  time  of  three 
entire  days,  than  let  him  be  killed  after  he  had  successfully  run  the  gaunt- 
let so  far  among  the  Indians.  I have  been  told  by  Mr.  Bent’s  people  of 
an  ox  born  and  raised  at  St.  Vrain’sfort,  which  made  his  escape  from  them 
at  Elm  grove,  near  the  frontier,  having  come  in  that  year  with  the  wagons. 
They  were  on  their  way  out,  and  saw  occasionally  places  where  he  had 
eaten  and  lain  down  to  rest ; but  did  not  see  him  for  about  700  miles,  when 
they  overtook  him  on  the  road,  travelling  along  to  the  fort,  having  unac- 
countably escaped  Indians  and  every  other  mischance. 

* The  greater  portion  of  our  subsequent  journey  was  through  a region  where  this  shrub  consti- 
tuted the  tree  of  the  country  ; and,  as  it  will  often  be  mentioned  in  occasional  descriptions,  the  word 
artemisia  only  will  be  used,  without  the  specific  name. 


125 


[ 174  ] 

We  encamped  at  evening  on  the  principal  fork  of  Medicine  Bow  river, 
near  to  an  isolated  mountain  called  the  Medicine  Butte , which  appeared  to 
be  about  1,S00  feet  above  the  plain,  from  which  it  rises  abruptly,  and  was 
still  white,  nearly  to  its  base,  with  a great  quantity  of  snow.  The  streams 
were  timbered  with  the  long-leaved  cottonwood  and  red  willow  ; and  dur- 
ing the  afternoon  a species  of  onion  was  very  abundant.  I obtained  here 
an  immersion  of  the  first ’satellite  of  Jupiter,  which,  corresponding  very 
nearly  with  the  chronometer,  placed  us  in  longitude  106°  47'  25".  The 
latitude,  by  observation,  was  41°  37'  16";  elevation  above  the  sea,  7,800 
feet;  and  distance  from  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  147  miles. 

•August  3. — There  was  a white  frost  last  night ; the  morning  is  clear  and 
cool.  We  were  early  on  the  road,  having  breakfasted  before  sunrise,  and 
in  a few  miles  travel  entered  the  pass  of  the  Medicine  Butte,  through  which 
led  a broad  trail,  which  had  been  recently  travelled  by  a very  large  party. 
Immediately  in  the  pass,  the  road  was  broken  by  ravines,  and  we  were 
obliged  to  clear  a way  through  groves  of  aspens,  which  generally  made 
their  appearance  when  we  reached  elevated  regions.  According  to  the  ba- 
rometer, this  was  S,300  feet ; and  while  we  were  detained  in  opening  a 
road,  I obtained  a meridional  observation  of  the  sun,  which  gave  41°  35' 
48"  for  the  latitude  of  the  pass.  The  Medicine  Butte  is  isolated  by  a small 
tributary  of  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  but  the  mountains  approach  each 
other  very  nearly ; the  stream  running  at  their  feet.  On  the  south  they 
are  smooth,  with  occasional  streaks  of  pine  ; but  the  butte  itself  is  ragged, 
with  escarpments  of  red  feldspathic  granite,  and  dark  with  pines  ; the  snow 
reaching  from  the  summit  to  within  a few  hundred  feet  of  the  trail.  The 
granite  here  was  more  compact  and  durable  than  that  in  the  formation 
which  we  had  passed  through  a few  days  before  to  the  eastward  of  Lara- 
mie. Continuing  our  way  over  a plaiu  on  the  west  side  of  the  pass,  where 
the  road  was  terribly  rough  with  artemisia,  we  made  our  evening  encamp- 
ment on  the  creek,  where  it  took  a northern  direction,  unfavorable  to  the 
course  we  were  pursuing.  Bands  of  buffalo  were  discovered  as  we  came 
down  upon  the  plain ; and  Carson  brought  into  the  camp  a cow  which  had 
the  fat  on  the  fleece  two  inches  thick.  Even  in  this  country  of  rich  pas- 
turage and  abundant  game,  it  is  rare  that  the  hunter  chances  upon  a finer 
animal.  Our  voyage  had  already  been  long,  but  this  was  the  first  good 
buffalo  meat  we  had  obtained.  We  travelled  to-day  26  miles, 

August  4. — The  morning  was  clear  and  calm  ; and,  leaving  the  creek, 
we  travelled  towards  the  North  fork  of  the  Platte,  over  a plain  which  was 
rendered  rough  and  broken  by  ravines.  With  the  exception  of  some  thin 
grasses,  the  sandy  soil  here  was  occupied  almost  exclusively  by  artemisia, 
with  its  usual  turpentine  odor.  We  had  expected  to  meet  with  some  diffi- 
culty in  crossing  the  river,  but  happened  to  strike  it  where  there  was  a very 
excellent  ford,  and  halted  to  noon  on  the  left  bank,  200  miles  from  St. 
Vrain’s  fort.  The  hunters  brought  in  pack  animals  loaded  with  fine  meat. 
According  to  our  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  country,  there  should  have 
been  a small  affluent  to  this  stream  a few  miles  higher  up  ; and  in  the  after- 
noon we  continued  our  way  among  the  river  hills,  in  the  expectation  of  en- 
camping upon  it  in  the  evening.  The  ground  proved  to  be  so  exceedingly 
difficult,  broken  up  into  hills,  terminating  in  escarpments  and  broad  ravines, 
500  or  600  feet  deep,  with  sides  so  precipitous  that  we  could  scarcely  find 
a place  to  descend,  that,  towards  sunset,  I turned  directly  in  towards  the 
river,  and,  after  nightfall,  entered  a sort  of  ravine.  We  were  obliged  to  feel 


126 


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our  way,  and  clear  a road  in  the  darkness ; the  surface  being  much  broken, 
and  the  progress  of  the  carriages  being  greatly  obstructed  by  the  artemisia, 
which  had  a luxuriant  growth  of  four  to  six  feet  in  height.  We  had 
scrambled  along  this  gully  for  several  hours,  during  which  we  had  knocked 
off  the  carriage  lamps,  broken  a thermometer  and  several  small  articles, 
when,  fearing  to  lose  something  of  more  importance,  I halted  for  the  night 
at  10  o’clock.  Our  animals  were  turned  down  towards  the  river,  that  they 
might  pick  up  what  little  grass  they  could  find  ; and  after  a little  search, 
some  water  was  found  in  a small  ravine,  and  improved  by  digging.  We 
lighted  up  the  ravine  with  fires  of.  artemisia,  and  about  midnight  sat  down 
to  a supper  which  we  were  hungry  enough  to  find  delightful — although 
the  buffalo  meat  was  crusted  with  sand,  and  the  coffee  was  bitter  with  the 
wormwood  taste  of  the  artemisia  leaves. 

A successful  day’s  hunt  had  kept  our  hunters  occupied  until  late,  and 
they  slept  out,  but  rejoined  us  at  daybreak,  when,  finding  ourselves  only 
about  a mile  from  the  river,  we  followed  the  ravine  down,  and  camped  in  a 
cottonwood  grove  on  a beautiful  grassy  bottom,  where  our  animals  indem- 
nified themselves  for  the  scanty  fare  of  the  past  night.  It  was  quite  a pretty 
and  pleasant  place  ; a narrow  strip  of  prairie  about  five  hundred  yards  long 
terminated  at  the  ravine  where  we  entered  by  high  precipitous  hills  closing 
in  upon  the  river,  and  at  the  upper  end  by  a ridge  of  low  rolling  hills. 

In  the  precipitous  bluffs  were  displayed  a succession  of  strata  containing 
fossil  vegetable  remains,  and  several  beds  of  coal.  In  some  of  the  beds  the 
coaL  did  not  appear  to  be  perfectly  mineralized  ; and  in  some  of  the  seams, 
it  was  compact  and  remarkably  lustrous.  In  these  latter  places  there  were 
also  thin  layers  of  a very  fine  white  salts,  in  powder.  As  we  had  a large 
supply  of  meat  in  the  camp,  which  it  was  necessary  to  dry,  and  the  sur- 
rounding country  appeared  to  be  well  stocked  with  buffalo,  which  it  was 
probable,  after  a day  or  two,  we  would  not  see  again  until  our  return  to  the 
Mississippi  waters,  I determined  to  make  here  a provision  of  dried  meat, 
which  would  be  necessary  for  our  subsistence  in  the  region  we  were  about 
entering,  which  was  said  to  be  nearly  destitute  of  game.  Scaffolds  were 
accordingly  soon  erected,  fires  made,  and  the  meat  cut  into  thin  slices  to  be 
dried;  and  all  were  busily  occupied,  when  the  camp  was  thrown  into  a 
sudden  tumult,  by  a charge  from  about  70  mounted  Indians,  over  the  low 
hills  at  the  upper  end  of  the  little  bottom.  Fortunately,  the  guard,  who 
was  between  them  and  our  animals,  had  caught  a glimpse  of  an  Indian’s 
head,  as  he  raised  himself  in  his  stirrups  to  look  over  the  hill,  a moment 
before  he  made  the  charge  ; and  succeeded  in  turning  the  band  into  the 
camp,  as  the  Indians  charged  into  the  bottom  with  the  usual  yell.  Before 
they  reached  us,  the  grove  on  the  verge  of  the  little  bottom  was  occupied 
by  our  people,  and  the  Indians  brought  to  a sudden  halt,  which  they  made 
in  time  to  save  themselves  from  a howitzer  shot,  which  would  undoubtedly 
have  been  very  effective  in  such  a compact  body;  and  further  proceedings 
were  interrupted  by  their  signs  for  peace.  They  proved  to  be  a war  party 
of  Arapaho  and  Cheyenne  Indians,  and  informed  us  that  they  had  charged 
upon  the  camp  under  the  belief  that  we  were  hostile  Indians,  and  had  dis- 
covered their  mistake  only  at  the  moment  of  the  attack — an  excuse  which 
policy  required  us  to  receive  as  true,  though  under  the  full  conviction  that 
the  display  of  our  little  howitzer,  and  our  favorable  position  in  the  grove, 
certainly  saved  our  horses,  and  probably  ourselves,  from  their  marauding 
intentions.  They  had  been  on  a war  party,  and  had  been  defeated,  and 


127 


[ 174  ] 

were  consequently  in  the  state  of  mind  which  aggravates  their  innate 
thirst  for  plunder  and  blood.  Their  excuse,  however,  was  taken  in  good 
part,  and  the  usual  evidences  of  friendship  interchanged.  The  pipe  went 
round,  provisions  were  spread,  and  the  tobacco  and  goods  furnished  the 
customary  presents,  which  they  look  for  even  from  traders, and  much  more 
from  Government  authorities. 

They  were  returning  from  an  expedition  against  the  Shoshonee  Indians, 
one  of  whose  villages  they  had  surprised,  at  Bridger’s  fort,  on  Ham’s  fork 
of  Green  river,  (in  the  absence  of  the  men,  who  were  engaged  in  an  ante- 
lope surround,)  and  succeeded  in  carrying  off  their  horses  and  taking 
several  scalps.  News  of  the  attack  reached  the  Snakes  immediately,  who 
pursued  and  overtook  them,  and  recovered  their  horses ; and,  in  the  running 
fight  which  ensued,  the  Arapahos  had  lost  several  men  killed,  and  a num- 
ber wounded,  who  were  coming  on  more  slowly  with  a party  in  the  rear. 
Nearly  all  the  horses  they  had  brought  off  were  the  property  of  the  whites 
at  the  fort.  After  remaining  until  nearly  sunset,  they  took  their  departure; 
and  the  excitement  which  their  arrival  had  afforded  subsided  into  our  usual 
quiet,  a little  enlivened  by  the  vigilance  rendered  necessary  by  the  neigh- 
borhood of  our  uncertain  visiters.  At  noon  the  thermometer  was  at  75°,  at 
sunset  70°,  and  the  evening  clear.  Elevation  above  the  sea  6,820  feet ; 
latitude  41°  36'  00";  longitude  107°  22'  27". 

August  6. — At  sunrise  the  thermometer  was  46°,  the  morning  being 
clear  and  calm.  We  travelled  to-day  over  an  extremely  rugged  country, 
barren  and  uninteresting — nothing  to  be  seen  but  artemisia  bushes ; and,  in 
the  evening,  found  a grassy  spot  among  the  hills,  kept  green  by  several 
springs,  where  we  encamped  late.  Within  a few  hundred  yards  was  a very 
pretty  little  stream  of  clear  cool  water,  whose  green  banks  looked  refreshing 
among  the  dry  rocky  hills.  The  hunters  brought  in  a fat  mountain  sheep, 
{ovis  moniana.) 

Our  road  the  next  day  was  through  a continued  and  dense  field  of  arte - 
misia , which  now  entirely  covered  the  country  in  such  a luxuriant  growth 
that  it  was  difficult  and  laborious  for  a man  on  foot  to  force  his  way 
through,  and  nearly  impracticable  for  our  light  carriages.  The  region 
through  which  we  were  travelling  was  a high  plateau,  constituting  the  di- 
viding ridge  between  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  oceans,  and 
extending  to  a considerable  distance  southward,  from  the  neighborhood  of 
the  Table  rock,  at  the  southern  side  of  the  South  Pass.  Though  broken 
lip  into  rugged  and  rocky  hills  of  a dry  and  barren  nature,  it  has  nothing 
of  a mountainous  character;  the  small  streams  which  occasionally  occur 
belonging  neither  to  the  Platte  nor  the  Colorado,  but  losing  themselves 
either  in  the  sand  or  in  small  lakes.  From  an  eminence,  in  the  afternoon, 
a mountainous  range  became  visible  in  the  north,  in  which  were  recog- 
nised some  rocky  peaks  belonging  to  the  range  of  the  Sweet  Water  valley; 
and,  determining  to  abandon  any  further  attempt  to  struggle  through  this 
almost  impracticable  country,  we  turned  our  course  directly  north,  towards 
a pass  in  the  valley  of  the  Sweet  Water  river.  A shaft  of  the  gun  carriage 
was  broken  during  the  afternoon,  causing  a considerable  delay;  and  it  was 
late  in  an  unpleasant  evening  before  we  succeeded  in  finding  a very  poor 
encampment,  where  there  was  a little  water  in  a deep  trench  of  a creek, 
and  some  scanty  grass  among  the  shrubs.  All  the  game  here  consisted  in 
a few  straggling  buffalo  bulls,  and  during  the  day  there  had  been  but  very 


128 


[ 174  ] 


little  grass,  except  in  some  green  spots  where  it  had  collected  around  springs 
or  shallow  lakes.  Within  fifty  miles  of  the  Sweet  Water,  the  country 
changed  into  a vast  saline  plain,  in  many  places  extremely  level,  occasion- 
ally resembling  the  flat  sandy  beds  of  shallow  lakes.  Here  the  vegetation 
consisted  of  a shrubby  growth,  among  which  were  several  varieties  of 
chenopodiaceous  plahts;  but  the  characteristic  shrub  was  Fremontia  ver - 
micularis , with  smaller  saline  shrubs  growing  with  singular  luxuriance, 
and  in  many  places  holding  exclusive  possession  of  the  ground. 

On  the  evening  of  the  8th,  we  encamped  on  one  of  these  fresh-water 
lakes,  which  the  traveller  considers  himself  fortunate  to  find  ; and  the  next 
day,  in  latitude  by  observation  42°  20'  06",  halted  to  noon  immediately  at 
the  foot  of  the  southern  side  of  the  range  which  walls  in  the  Sweet  Water 
valley,  on  the  head  of  a small  tributary  to  that  river. 

Continuing  in  the  afternoon  our  course  down  the  stream,  which  here 
cuts  directly  through  the  ridge,  forming  a very  practicable  pass,  we  entered 
the  valley  ; and,  after  a march  of  about  nine  miles,  encamped  on  our  famil- 
iar river,  endeared  to  us  by  the  acquaintance  of  the  previous  expedition; 
the  night  having  already  closed  in  with  a cold  rain  storm.  Our  camp  was 
about  twenty  miles  above  the  Devil’s  gate,  which  we  had  been  able  to  see 
in  coming  down  the  plain : and,  in  the  course  of  the  night,  the  clouds  broke 
away  around  Jupiter  for  a short  time,  during  which  we  obtained  an  im- 
mersion of  the  first  satellite,  the  result  of  which  agreed  very  nearly  with 
the  chronometer,  giving  for  the  mean  longitude  107°  50’  07";  elevation 
above  the  sea  6,040  feet;  and  distance  from  St.  Vrain’s  fort,  by  the  road 
we  had  just  travelled,  315  miles. 

Here  passes  the  road  to  Oregon  ; and  the  broad  smooth  highway,  where 
the  numerous  heavy  wagons  of  the  emigrants  had  entirely  beaten  and 
crushed  the  artemisia,  was  a happy  exchange  to  our  poor  animals  for  the 
sharp  rocks  and  tough  shrubs  among  which  they  had  been  toiling  so  long; 
and  we  moved  up  the  valley  rapidly  and  pleasantly.  With  very  little  de- 
viation from  our  route  of  the  preceding  year,  we  continued  up  the  valley; 
and  on  the  evening  of  the  12th  encamped  on  the  Sweet  Water,  at  a point 
where  the  road  turns  off  to  cross  to  the  plains  of  Green  river.  The  increased 
coolness  of  the  weather  indicated  that  we  had  attained  a great  elevation, 
which  the  barometer  here  placed  at  7,220  feet ; and  during  the  night  water 
froze  in  the  lodge. 

The  morning  of  the  13t>h  was  clear  and  cold,  there  being  a white  frost; 
and  the  thermometer,  a little  before  sunrise,  standing  at  26.5°.  Leaving 
this  encampment,  (our  last  on  the  waters  which  flow  towards  the  rising 
sun,)  we  took  our  way  along  the  upland,  towards  the  dividing  ridge  which 
separates  the  Atlantic  from  the  Pacific  waters,  and  crossed  it  by  a road  some 
miles  further  south  than  the  one  we  had  followed  on  our  return  in  1842. 
We  crossed  very  near  the  table  mountain,  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
South  Pass,  which  is  near  twenty  miles  in  width,  and  already  traversed  by 
several  different,  roads.  Selecting  as  well  as  I could,  in  the  scarcely  distin- 
guishable ascent,  what  might  be  considered  the  dividing  ridge  in  this  re-  ! 
markable  depression  in  the  mountain,  I took  a barometrical  observation, 
which  gave  7,490  feet  for  the  elevation  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  You 
will  remember  that,  in  my  report  of  1842, 1 estimated  the  elevation  of  this 
pass  at  about  7,000  feet ; a correct  observation  with  a good  barometer  ena- 
bles me  now  to  give  it  with  more  precision.  Its  importance,  as  the  great 
gate  through  which  commerce  and  travelling  may  hereafter  pass  between 


129 


[ 174  2 

the  valley  of  the  Mississippi  and  the  north  Pacific,  justifies  a precise  notice 
of  its  locality  and  distance  from  leading  points,  in  addition  to  this  statement 
of  its  elevation.  As  stated  in  the  report  of  1842,  its  latitude  at  the  point 
where  we  crossed  is  42°  24'  32"  ; its  longitude  109°  26'  00";  its  distance 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas,  by  the  common  travelling  route,  962  miles; 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Great  Platte,  along  the  valley  of  that  river,  according 
to  our  survey  of  1842,  882  miles  ; and  its  distance  from  St.  Louis  about  400 
miles  more  by  the  Kansas, and  about  700  by  the  Great  Platte  route  ; these 
additions  being  steamboat  conveyance  in  both  instances.  From  this  pass 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Oregon  is  about  1,400  miles  by  the  common  travelling 
route ; so  that,  under  a general  point  of  view,  it  may  be  assumed  to  be  about 
half  way  between  the  Mississippi  and  the  Pacific  ocean,  on  the  common 
travelling  route.  Following  a hollow  of  slight  and  easy  descent,  in  which 
was  very  soon  formed  a little  tributary  to  the  Gulf  of  California,  (for  the 
waters  which  flow  west  from  the  South  Pass  go  to  this  gulf,)  we  made  our 
usual  halt  four  miles  from  the  pass,  in  latitude  by  observation  42°  19'  53". 
Entering  here  the  valley  of  Green  river — the  great  Colorado  of  the  West — 
and  inclining  very  much  to  the  southward  along  the  streams  which  form 
the  Sandy  river,  the  road  led  for  several  days  over  dry  and  level  uninter- 
esting plains;  to  which  a low,  scrubby  growth  of  artemisia  gave  a uniform 
dull  grayish  color;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  15th  we  encamped  in  the 
Mexican  territory,  on  the  left  bank  of  Green  river,  69  miles  from  the  South 
Pass,  in  longitude  110°  05'  05",  and  latitude  41°  53'  54",  distant  1.031  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Kansas.  This  is  the  emigrant  road  to  Oregon,  which 
bears  much  to  the  southward,  to  avoid  the  mountains  about  the  western 
heads  of  Green  river— the  Rio  Verde  of  the  Spaniards. 

August  16. — Crossing  the  river,  here  about  400  feet  wide,  by  a very  good 
ford,  we  continued  to  descend  for  seven  or  eight  miles  on  a pleasant  road 
along  the  right  bank  of  the  stream,  of  which  the  islands  and  shores  are  hand- 
somely timbered  with  cottonwood.  The  refreshing  appearance  of  the  broad 
river,  with  its  timbered  shores  and  green  wooded  islands,  in  contrast  to  its 
dry  sandy  plains,  probably  obtained  for  it  the  name  of  Green  river,  which 
was  bestowed  on  it  by  the  Spaniards  who  first  came  into  this  country  to 
trade  some  25  years  ago.  It  was  then  familiarly  known  as  the  Seeds-ke- 
dee-agie,  or  Prairie  Hen  (tetrao  urophasiauus)  river  ; a name  which  it  re- 
ceived from  the  Crows,  to  whom  its  upper  waters  belong,  and  on  which  this 
bird  is  still  very  abundant.  By  the  Shoshonee  and  Utah  Indians,  to  whom 
belongs,  for  a considerable  distance  below,  the  country  where  we  were  now 
travelling,  it  was  called  the  Bitter  Root  river,  from  the  great  abundance  in 
its  valley  of  a plant  which  affords  them  one  of  their  favorite  roots.  Lower 
clown,  from  Brown’s  hole  to  the  southward,  the  river  runs  through  lofty 
chasms,  walled  in  by  precipices  of  red  rock;  and  even  among  the  wilder 
tribes  who  inhabit  that  portion  of  its  course,  I have  heard  it  called  by  Indian 
refugees  from  the  Californian  settlements  the  Rio  Colorado.  We  halted  to 
noon  at  the  upper  end  of  a large  bottom,  near  some  old  houses,  which  had 
been  a trading  post,  in  latitude  41°  46'  54".  At  this  place  the  elevation  of 
the  river  above  the  sea  is  6,230  feet.  That  of  Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Columbia 
at  Fort  Hall  is,  according  to  our  subsequent  observations,  4,500  feet.  The 
descent  of  each  stream  is  rapid,  but  that  of  the  Colorado  is  but  little  known, 
and  that  little  derived  from  vague  report.  Three  hundred  miles  of  its 
lower  part,  as  it  approaches  the  gulf  of  California,  is  reported  to  be  smooth, 
and  tranquil ; but  its  upper  part  is  manifestly  broken  into  many  falls 
9 


130 


l ^4  ] 

and  rapids.  From  many  descriptions  of  trappers,  it  is  probable  that  in  its 
foaming  course  among  its  lofty  precipices  it  presents  many  scenes  of  wild 
grandeur;  and  though  offering  many  temptations,  and  often  discussed,  no 
trappers  have  been  found  bold  enough  to  undertake  a voyage  which  has  so 
certain  a prospect  of  a fatal  termination.  The  Indians  have  strange  stories 
of  beautiful  valleys  abounding  with  beaver,  shut  up  among  inaccessible 
walls  of  rock  in  the  lower  course  of  the  river  ; and  to  which  the  neighbor- 
ing Indians,  in  their  occasional  wars  with  the  Spaniards,  and  among  them- 
selves, drive  their  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep,  leaving  them  to  pas- 
ture in  perfect  security. 

The  road  here  leaves  the  river,  which  bends  considerably  to  the  east ; and 
in  the  afternoon  we  resumed  our  westerly  course,  passing  over  a somewhat 
high  and  broken  country  ; and  about  sunset,  after  a day’s  travel  of  26  miles, 
reached  Black’s  fork  of  the  Green  river — a shallow  stream,  with  a some- 
what sluggish  current,  about  120  feet  wide,  timbered  principally  with  wil- 
low, and  here  and  there  an  occasional  large  tree.  At  3 in  the  morning  I 
obtained  an  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter,  with 
other  observations.  The  heavy  wagons  have  so  completely  pulverized  the 
soil,  that  clouds  of  fine  light  dust  are  raised  by  the  slightest  wind,  making 
the  road  sometimes  very  disagreeable. 

August  17. — Leaving  our  encampment  at  6 in  the  morning,  we  travelled 
along  the  bottom,  which  is  about  two -miles  wide,  bordered  by  low  hills,  in 
which  the  strata  contained  handsome  and  very  distinct  vegetable  fossils.  In 
a gully  a short  distance  farther  up  the  river,  and  underlying  these,  was  ex- 
posed a stratum  of  an  impure  or  argillaceous  limestone.  Crossing  on  the 
way  Black’s  fork,  where  it  is  one  foot  deep  and  forty  wide,  with  clear  water 
and  a pebbly  bed,  in  nine  miles  we  reached  Ham’s  fork,  a tributary  to  the 
former  stream,  having  now  about  sixty  feet  breadth,  and  a few  inches  depth 
of  water.  It  is  wooded  with  thickets  of  red  willow,  and  in  the  bottom  is  a 
tolerably  strong  growth  of  grass.  The  road  here  makes  a traverse  of  twelve 
miles  across  a bend  of  the  river.  Passing  in  the  way  some  remarkable  hills, 
two  or  three  hundred  feet  high,  with  frequent  and  nearly  vertical  escarp- 
ments of  a green  stone,  consisting  of  an  argillaceous  carbonate  of  lime,  al- 
ternating with  strata  of  an  iron  brown  limestone,  and  worked  into  pictur- 
esque forms  by  wind  and  rain,  at  2 in  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  river 
again,  having  made  to-day  21  miles.  Since  crossing  the  great  dividing 
ridge  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  plants  have  been  very  few  in  variety,  the 
country  being  covered  principally  with  artemisia. 

August  18. — We  passed  on  the  road,  this  morning,  the  grave  of  one  of 
the  emigrants,  being  the  second  we  had  seen  since  falling  into  their  trail ; 
and  halted  to  noon  on  the  river,  a short  distance  above. 

The  Shoshonee  woman  took  leave  of  us  here,  expecting  to  find  some  of 
her  relations  at  Bridget’s  fort,  which  is  only  a mile  or  two  distant,  on  a 
fork  of  this  stream.  In  the  evening  we  encamped  on  a salt  creek,  about 
fifteen  feet  wide,  having  to-day  travelled  32  miles. 

I obtained  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  under  favorable  circumstances, 
the  night  being  still  and  clear. 

One  of  our  mules  died  here,  and  in  this  portion  of  our  journey  we  lost 
six  or  seven  of  our  animals.  The  grass  which  the  country  had  lately  af- 
forded was  very  poor  and  insufficient ; and  animals  which  have  been  ac- 
customed to  grain  become  soon  weak  and  unable  to  labor,  when  reduced  to 
■no  other  nourishment  than  grass.  The  American  horses  (as  those  are 


131 


[ 174  3 

usually  called  which  are  brought  to  this  country  from  the  States)  are  not  of 
any  serviceable  value  until  after  they  have  remained  a winter  in  the  coun- 
try, and  become  accustomed  to  live  entirely  on  grass. 

t August  19. — Desirous  to  avoid  every  delay  not  absolutely  necessary,  I 
sent  on  Carson  in  advance  to  Fort  Hall  this  morning,  to  make  arrangements 
for  a small  supply  of  provisions.  A few  miles  from  our  encampment,  the 
road  entered  a high  ridge,  which  the  trappers  called  the  “little  mountain, 5f 
connecting  the  Utah  with  the  Wind  river  chain  ; and  in  one  of  the  hills  near 
which  we  passed  I remarked  strata  of  a conglomerate  formation,  frag- 
ments uf  which  were  scattered  over  the  surface.  We  crossed  a ridge  of 
this  conglomerate,  the  road  passing  near  a grove  of  low  cedar,  and  de- 
scended upon  one  of  the  heads  of  Ham’s  fork,  called  Muddy,  where  we 
made  our  midday  halt.  In  the  river  hills  at  this  place,  I discovered  strata 
of  fossilliferous  rock,  having  an  oolitic,  structure,  whicn,  in  connexion  with 
the  neighboring  strata,  authorize  us  to  believe  that  here,  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Rocky  mountains,  we  find  repeated  the  modern  formations  of  Great 
Britain  and  Europe,  which  have  hitherto  been  wanting  to  complete  the 
system  of  North  American  geology. 

The  specimens  from  this  locality  are  designated  in  the  appendix  by  the 
numbers  64,  68,  and  74. 

In  the  afternoon  we  continued  our  road,  and,  searching  among  the  hills 
a few  miles  up  the  stream,  and  on.  the  same  bank,  I discovered,  among  alter- 
nating beds  of  coal  and  clay,  a stratum  of  white  indurated  clay,  containing 
very  clear  and  beautiful  impressions  of  vegetable  remains.  This  was  the 
most  interesting  fossil  locality  I had  met  in  the  country,  and  I deeply  re- 
gretted that  time  did  not  permit  me  to  remain  a day  or  two  in  the  vicinity; 
but  I could  not  anticipate  the  delays  to  which  I might  be  exposed  in  the 
course  of  our  journey — or,  rather,  I knew  that  they  were  many  and  inevi- 
table; and  after  remaining  here  only  about  an  hour,  I hurried  off,  loaded 
with  as  many  specimens  as  I could  conveniently  carry. 

Coal  made  its  appearance  occasionally  in  the  hills  during  the  afternoon* 
and  was  displayed  in  rabbit  burrows  in  a kind  of  gap,  through  which  we 
passed  over  some  high  hills,  and  we  descended  to  make  our  encampment 
on  the  same  streem,  where  we  found  but  very  poor  grass.  In  the  evening 
a fine  cow,  with  her  calf,  which  had  strayed  off  from  some  emigrant  party* 
were  found  several  miles  from  the  road,  and  brought  into  camp ; and  as 
she  gave  an  abundance  of  milk,  we  enjoyed  to-night  an  excellent  cup  of 
coffee.  We  travelled  to-day  28  miles,  and,  as  has  been  usual  since  crossing 
the  Green  river,  the  road  has  been  very  dusty,  and  the  weather  smoky  and 
oppressively  hot.  Artemisia  was  characteristic  among  the  few  plants. 

August  20. — We  continued  to  travel  up  the  creek  by  a very  gradual 
ascent  and  a very  excellent  grassy  road,  passing  on  the  way  several  small 
forks  of  the  stream.  The  hills  here  are  higher,  presenting  escarpments  of 
parti-colored  and  apparently  clay  rocks,  purple,  dark  red,  and  yellow,  con- 
taining strata  of  sandstone  and  limestone  with  shells,  with  a bed  of  cement- 
ed pebbles,  the  whole  overlaid  by  beds  of  limestone.  The  alternation  of  red 
and  yellow  gives  a bright  appearance  to  the  hills,  one  of  which  was  called 
by  our  people  the  Rainbow  hill ; and  the  character  of  the  country  became 
more  agreeable,  and  travelling  far  more  pleasant,  as  now  we  found  timber 
and  very  good  grass.  Gradually  ascending,  we  reached  the  lower  level  of  a 
bed  of  white  limestone,  lying  upon  a white  clay,  on  the  upper  line  of  whick 
the  whole  road  is  abundantly  supplied  with  beautiful  cool  springs,  gushing 


132 


C 174  ] 

out  a foot  in  breadth  and  several  inches  deep,  directly  from  the  hill  side.  At 
noon  we  halted  at  the  last  main  fork  of  the  creek,  at  an  elevation  of  7,200 
feet,  and  in  latitude,  by  observation,  41®  39'  45"  ; and  in  the  afternoon  con- 
tinued on  the  same  excellent  road,  up  the  left  or  northern  fork  of  the 
Stream,  towards  its  head,  in  a pass  which  the  barometer  placed  at  8,230  feet 
above  the  sea.  This  is  a connecting  ridge  between  the  Utah  or  Bear  river 
mountains  and  the  Wind  river  chain  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  separating 
the  waters  of  the  gulf  of  California  on  the  east,  and  those  on  the  west  be- 
longing more  directly  to  the  Pacific,  from  a vast  interior  basin  whose  rivers 
are  collected  into  numerous  lakes  having  no  outlet  to  the  ocean.  From  the 
summit  of  this  pass,  the  highest  which  the  road  crosses  between  the  Missis- 
sippi and  the  Western  ocean,  our  view  was  over  a very  mountainous  region, 
whose  rugged  appearance  was  greatly  increased  by  the  smoky  weather, 
through  which  the  broken  ridges  were  dark  and  dimly  seen.  The  ascent 
to  the  summit  of  the  gap  was  occasionally  steeper  than  the  national  road  in 
the  Alleghanies ; and  the  descent,  by  way  of  a spur  on  the  western  side,  is 
rather  precipitous,  but  the  pass  may  still  be  called  a good  one.  Some 
thickets  of  willow  in  the  hollows  below  deceived  us  into  the  expectation  of 
finding  a camp  at  our  usual  hour  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain ; but  we  found 
them  without  water,  and  continued  down  a ravine,  and  encamped  about 
dark  at  a place  where  the  springs  again  began  to  make  their  appearance, 
but  where  our  animals  fared  badly;  the  stock  of  the  emigrants  having 
razed  the  grass  as  completely  as  if  we  were  again  in  the  midst  of  the 
buffalo. 

August  21. — An  hour’s  travel  this  morning  brought  us  into  the  fertile 
and  picturesque  valley  of  Bear  river,  the  principal  tributary  to  the  Great 
Salt  lake.  The  stream  is  here  200  feet  wide,  fringed  with  willows  and 
occasional  groups  of  hawthorns.  We  were  now  entering  a region  which 
for  us  possessed  a strange  and  extraordinary  interest.  We  were  upon  the 
waters  of  the  famous  lake  which  forms  a salient  point  among  the  remarka- 
ble geographical  features  of  the  country,  and  around  which  the  vague  and 
superstitious  accounts  of  the  trappers  had  thrown  a delightful  obscurity, 
which  we  anticipated  pleasure  in  dispelling,  bur  which,  in  the  mean  time, 
left  a crowded  field  for  the  exercise  of  our  imagination. 

In  our  occasional  conversations  with  the  few  old  hunters  who  had  visited 
the  region,  it  had  been  a subject  of  frequent  speculation ; and  the  wonders 
which  they  related  were  not  the  less  agreeable  because  they  were  highly 
exaggerated  and  impossible. 

Hitherto  this  lake  had  been  seen  only  by  trappers  who  were  wandering 
through  the  country  in  search  of  new  beaver  streams,  caring  very  little  for 
geography;  its  islands  had  never  been  visited  ; and  none  were  to  be  found 
who  had  entirely  made  the  circuit  of  its  shores;  and  no  instrumental  ob- 
servations or  geographical  survey,  of  any  description,  had  ever  been  made 
any  where  in  the  neighboring  region.  It  was  generally  supposed  that  it 
had  no  visible  outlet ; but  among  the  trappers,  including  those  in  my  owi* 
eamp,  were  many  who  believed  that  somewhere  on  its  surface  was  a ter- 
rible whirlpool,  through  which  its  waters  found  their  way  to  the  ocean  by 
some  subterranean  communication.  All  these  things  had  made  a frequent 
subject  of  discussion  in  our  desultory  conversations  around  the  fires  at 
night;  and  my  own  mind  had  become  tolerably  well  filled  with  their  in- 
definite pictures,  and  insensibly  colored  with  their  romantic  descriptions, 
which,  in  the  pleasure  of  excitement,  I was  well  disposed  to  believe,  and 
half  expected  to  realize. 


133 


[ 174  ] 

Where  we  descended  into  this  beautiful  valley,  it  is  three  to  four  miles  in 
breadth,  perfectly  level,  and  bounded  by  mountainous  ridges,  one  above 
Another,  rising  suddenly  from  the  plain. 

Annexed  is  a map  of  that  portion  of  the  river  along  which  passes  the 
emigrant  road.  In  its  character  of  level  bottoms,  enclosed  between  abrupt 
mountains,  it  presents  a type  of  the  streams  of  this  region. 

We  continued  our  road  down  the  river,  and  at  night  encamped  with  a 
family  of  emigrants — two  men,  women,  and  several  children — who  ap- 
peared to  be  bringing  up  the  rear  of  the  great  caravan.  1 was  struck  with 
the  fine  appearance  of  their  cattle,  some  six  or  eight  yoke  of  oxen,  which 
really  looked  as  well  as  if  they  had  been  all  the  summer  at  work  on  some 
good  farm.  It  was  strange  to  see  one  small  family  travelling  along  through 
such  a country,  so  remote  from  civilization.  Some  nine  years  since,  such 
a security  might  have  been  a fatal  one ; but  since  their  disastrous  defeats 
in  the  country  a little  north,  the  Blackfeet  have  ceased  to  visit  these  waters. 
Indians,  however,  are  very  uncertain  in  their  localities;  and  the  friendly 
feelings,  also,  of  those  now  inhabiting  it  may  be  changed. 

According  to  barometrical  observation  at  noon,  the  elevation  of  the  valley 
was  6,400  feet  above  the  sea ; and  our  encampment  at  night  in  latitude 
42°  03‘  47", and  longitude  1110  10'  53",  by  observation — the  day’s  journey 
having  been  26  miles.  This  encampment  was  therefore  within  the  territo- 
rial limit  of  the  United  States;  our  travelling,  from  the  time  we  entered  the 
valley  of  the  Green  river,  on  the  15th  of  August,  having  been  to  the  south 
of  the  42d  degree  of  north  latitude,  and  consequently  on  Mexican  territory; 
and  this  is  the  route  all  the  emigrants  now  travel  to  Oregon. 

The  temperature  at  sunset  was  65°;  and  at  evening  there  was  a distant 
thunder  storm,  with  a light  breeze  from  the  norih. 

Antelope  and  elk  were  seen  during  the  day  on  the  opposite  prairie;  and 
there  were  ducks  and  geese  in  the  river. 

The  next  morning,  in  about  three  miles  from  our  encampment,  we  reach- 
ed Smith’s  fork,  a stream  of  clear  water,  about  50  feet  in  breadth.  It  is 
timbered  with  cottonwood,  willow,  and  aspen,  and  makes  a beautiful  de- 
bouchement  through  a pass  about  600  yards  wide,  between  remarkable 
mountain  hills,  rising  abruptly  on  either  side,  and  forming  gigantic  columns 
to  the  gate  by  which  it  enters  Bear  river  valley.  The  bottoms,  which  below 
Smith’s  fork  had  been  two  miles  wide, narrowed, as  we  advanced,  to  a gap 
500  yards  wide  ; and  during  the  greater  part  of  the  day  we  had  a winding 
route,  the  river  making  very  sharp  and  sudden  bends,  the  mountains  steep 
and  rocky,  and  the  valley  occasionally  so  narrow  as  only  to  leave  space  for 
a passage  through. 

We  made  our  halt  at  noon  in  a fertile  bottom,  where  the  common  blue 
flax  was  growing  abundantly,  a few  miles  below  the  mouth  of  Thomas’s 
fork,  one  of  the  larger  tributaries  of  the  river. 

Crossing,  in  the  afternoon,  ihe  point  of  a narrow  spur,  we  descended  into 
a beautiful  bottom,  formed  by  a lateral  valley,  which  presented  a picture 
of  home  beauty  that  went  directly  to  our  hearts.  The  edge  of  the  wood, 
for  several  miles  along  the  river,  was  dotted  with  the  white  covers  of  emi- 
grant wagons,  collected  in  groups  at  different  camps,  where  the  smokes 
were  rising  lazily  from  the  fires,  around  which  the  women  were  occupied 
in  preparing  the  evening  meal,  and  the  children  playing  in  the  grass;  and 
herds  of  cattle,  grazing  about  in  the  bottom,  had  an  air  of  quiet  security. 


134 


£ 174  ] 

and  civilized  comfort,  that  made  a rare  sight  for  the  traveller  in  such  a 
remote  wilderness. 

In  common  with  all  the  emigration,  they  had  been  reposing  for  several 
days  in  this  delightful  valley,  in  order  to  recruit  their  animals  on  its  luxuri- 
ant pasturage  after  their  long  journey,  and  prepare  them  for  the  hard  travel 
along  the  comparatively  sterile  banks  of  the  Upper  Columbia.  At  the 
lower  end  of  this  extensive  bottom,  the  river  passes  through  an  open  canon, 
where  there  were  high  vertical  rocks  to  the  water’s  edge,  and  the  road  here 
turns  up  a broad  valley  to  the  right.  It  was  already  near  sunset ; but, 
hoping  to  reach  the  river  again  before  night,  we  continued  our  march 
along  the  valley,  finding  the  road  tolerably  good,  until  we  arrived  at  a point 
where  it  crosses  the  ridge  by  an  ascent  of  a mile  in  length,  which  was  so 
very  steep  and  difficult  for  the  gun  and  carriage,  that  we  did  not  reach  the 
summit  until  dark. 

It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  descend  into  the  valley  for  water  and  grass; 
and  we  were  obliged  to  grope  our  way  in  the  darkness  down  a very  steep, 
bad  mountain,  reaching  the  river  at  about  10  o’clock.  It  was  late  before 
our  animals  were  gathered  into  camp,  several  of  those  which  were  very 
weak  being  necessarily  left  to  pass  the  night  on  the  ridge;  and  we  sat  down 
again  to  a midnight  supper.  The  road,  in  the  morning,  presented  an  ani- 
mated appearance.  YVe  found  that  we  had  encamped  near  a large  party  of 
emigrants;  and  a few  miles  below  another  party  was  already  in  motion. 
Here  the  valley  had  resumed  its  usual  breadth,  and  the  river  swept  off 
^along  the  mountains  on  the  western  side,  the  road  continuing  directly  on. 

In  about  an  hour’s  travel  we  met  several  Shoshonee  Indians,  who  in- 
formed us  that  they  belonged  to  a large  village  which  had  just  come  into 
the  valley  from  the  mountain  to  the  westward,  where  they  had  been  hunt- 
ing antelope  and  gathering  service  berries.  Glad  at  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  one  of  their  villages,  and  in  the  hope  of  purchasing  from  them  a 
few  horses,  I turned  immediately  off  into  the  plain  towards  their  encamp- 
ment, which  was  situated  on  a small  stream  near  the  river. 

We  had  approached  within  something  more  than  a mile  of  the  village, 
when  suddenly  a single  horseman  emerged  from  it  at  full  speed,  followed 
by  another,  and  another,  in  rapid  succession ; and  then  party  after  party 
poured  into  the  plain,  until,  when  the  foremost  rider  reached  us,  all  the 
whole  intervening  plain  was  occupied  by  a mass  of  horsemen,  which  came 
charging  down  upon  us  with  guns  and  naked  swords,  lances,  and  bows 
and  arrows — Indians  entirely  naked,  and  warriors  fully  dressed  for  war, 
with  the  long  red  streamers  of  their  war  bonnets  reaching  nearly  to  the 
ground — all  mingled  together  in  the  bravery  of  savage  warfare.  They  had 
been  thrown  into  a sudden  tumult  by  the  appearance  of  our  flag,  which, 
among  these  people,  is  regarded  as  an  emblem  of  hostility ; it  being  usually 
borne  by  the  Sioux,  and  the  neighboring  mountain  Indians,  when  they 
come  here  to  war ; and  we  had  accordingly  been  mistaken  for  a body  of 
their  enemies.  A few  words  from  the  chief  quieted  the  excitement;  and 
the  whole  band,  increasing  every  moment  in  number,  escorted  us  to  their 
encampment,  where  the  chief  pointed  out  a place  for  us  to  encamp,  near  his 
awn  lodge,  and  made  known  our  purpose  in  visiting  the  village.  In  a very 
short  time  we  purchased  eight  horses,  for  which  we  gave  in  exchange 
blankets,  red  and  blue  cloth,  beads,  knives,  and  tobacco,  and  the  usual  other 
articles  of  Indian  traffic.  We  obtained  from  them  also  a considerable  quan- 


tity  of  berries  of  different  kinds,  among  which  service  berries  were  the  most 
abundant;  and  several  kinds  of  roots  and  seeds,  which  we  could  eat  with 
pleasure,  as  any  kind  of  vegetable  food  was  gratifying  to  us.  I ate  here,  for 
the  first  time,  the  kooyah , or  tobacco  root,  ( valeriana  edulis ,)  the  principal 
edible  root  among  the  Indians  who  inhabit  the  upper  waters  of  the  streams 
on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains.  It  has  a very  strong  and  remarkably 
peculiar  taste  and  odor,  which  I can  compare  to  no  other  vegetable  that  I 
am  acquainted  with,  and  which  to  some  persons  is  extremely  offensive.  It 
was  characterized  by  Mr.  Preuss  as  the  most  horrid  food  he  had  ever  put  in 
his  mouth  ; and  when,  in  the  evening,  one  of  the  chiefs  sent  his  wife  to  me 
with  a portion  which  she  had  prepared  as  a delicacy  to  regale  us,  the  odor 
immediately  drove  him  out  of  the  lodge;  and  frequently  afterwards  he  used 
to  beg  that  when  those  who  liked  it  had  taken  what  they  desired,  it  might 
be  sent  away.  To  others,  however,  the  taste  is  rather  an  agreeable  one, 
and  I was  afterwards  always  glad  when  it  formed  an  addition  to  our  scanty 
meals.  It  is  full  of  nutriment ; and  in  its  unprepared  state  is  said  by  the 
Indians  to  have  very  strong  poisonous  qualities,  of  which  it  is  deprived  by 
a peculiar  process,  being  baked  in  the  ground  for  about  two  days. 

The  morning  of  the  24th  was  disagreeably  cool,  with  an  easterly  wind 
and  very  smoky  weather.  We  made  a late  start  from  the  village,  and,  re- 
gaining the  road,  (on  which,  during  ail  the  day,  were  scattered  the  emigrant 
wagons,)  we  continued  on  down  the  valley  of  the  river,  bordered  by  high 
and  mountainous  hills,  on  which  fires  are  seen  at  the  summit.  The  soil 
appears  generally  good,  although,  with  the  grasses,  many  of  the  plants  are 
dried  up,  probably  on  account  of  the  great  heat  and  want  of  rain.  The 
common  blue  flax  of  cultivation,  now  almost  entirely  in  seed — only  a scat- 
tered flower  here  and  there  remaining — is  the  most  characteristic  plant  of 
the  Bear  river  valley.  When  we  encamped  at  night  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  river,  it  was  growingas  in  a sown  field.  We  had  travelled  during  ths 
day  22  miles,  encamping  in  latitude  (by  observation)  42°  36'  56",  chrono- 
metric  longitude  1110  42'  05". 

In  our  neighborhood,  the  mountains  appeared  extremely  rugged,  giving- 
still  greater  value  to  this  beautiful  natural  pass. 

August  25. — This  was  a cloudless  but  smoky  autumn  morning,  with  a 
cold  wind  from  the  SE.,  and  a temperature  of  45°  at  sunrise.  In  a few 
miles  I noticed,  where  a little  stream  crossed  the  road,  fragments  of  scoriat * 
ed  basalt  scattered  about — the  first  volcanic  rock  we  had  seen,  and  which 
now  became  a characteristic  rock  along  our  future  road.  In  about  six 
miles  travel  from  our  encampment,  we  reached  one  of  the  points  in  our 
journey  to  which  we  had  always  looked  forward  with  great  interest — the 
famous  Beer  springs.  The  sketch  annexed  will  aid  in  fixing  your  ideas 
of  the  place,  which  is  a basin  of  mineral  waters  enclosed  by  the  mountains, 
which  sweep  around  a circular  bend  of  Bear  river,  here  at  its  most  north- 
ern point,  and  which  from  a northern,  in  the  course  of  a few  miles  acquires 
a southern  direction  towards  the  Great  Salt  lake.  A pretty  little  stream 
of  clear  water  enters  the  upper  part  of  the  basin  from  an  open  valley  in  the 
mountains,  and,  passing  through  the  bottom,  discharges  into  Bear  river. 
Crossing  this  stream,  we  descended  a mile  below,  and  made  our  encamp- 
ment in  a grove  of  cedar  immediately  at  the  Beer  springs,  which,  on  ac- 
count of  the  effervescing  gas  and  acid  taste,  have  received  their  name  from 
he  voyage urs  and  trappers  of  the  country,  who,  in  the  midst  of  their  rude 


136 


[ 174  ] 

and  hard  lives,  are  fond  of  finding  some  fancied  resemblance  to  the  luxu- 
ries they  rarely  have  the  fortune  to  enjoy. 

Although  somewhat  disappointed  in  the  expectations  which  various  de- 
scriptions had  led  me  to  form  of  unusual  beauty  of  situation  and  scenery, 
I found  it  altogether  a place  of  very  great  interest;  and  a traveller  for  the 
first  time  in  a volcanic  region  remains  in  a constant  excitement,  and  at 
every  step  is  arrested  by  something  remarkable  and  new.  There  is  a con- 
fusion of  interesting  objects  gathered  together  in  a small  space.  Around 
the  place  of  encampment  the  Beer  springs  were  numerous ; but,  as  far  as 
we  could  ascertain,  were  entirely  confined  to  that  locality  in  the  bottom.  In 
the  bed  of  the  river,  in  front,  for  a space  of  several  hundred  yards,  they 
were  very  abundant ; the  effervescing  gas  rising  up  and  agitating  the  water 
in  countless  bubbling  columns.  In  the  vicinity  round  about  were  numerous 
springs  of  an  entirely  different  and  equally  marked  mineral  character.  In  a 
rather  picturesque  spot,  about  1,300  yards  below  our  encampment,  and  im- 
mediately on  the  river  bank,  is  the  most  remarkable  spring  of  the  place. 
In  an  opening  on  the  rock,  a white  column  of  scattered  water  is  thrown  tip, 
in  form  like  a jet-d’eau.  to  a variable  height  of  about  three  feet,  and,  though 
it  is  maintained  in  a constant  supply,  its  greatest  height  is  attained  only  at 
regular  intervals,  according  to  the  action  of  the  force  below.  It  is  accom- 
panied by  a su’oterraneau  noise,  which,  together  with  the  motion  of  the 
water,  makes  very  much  the  impression  of  a steamboat  in  motion  ; and, 
without  knowing  that  it  had  been  already  previously  so  called,  we  gave  to 
it  the  name  of  the  Steamboat  spring.  The  rock  through  which  it  is  forced 
is  slightly  raised  in  a convex  manner,  and  gathered  at  the  opening  into  an 
urn-mouthed  form,  and  is  evidently  formed  by  continued  deposition  from 
the  water,  and  colored  bright  red  by  oxide  of  iron.  An  analysis  of  this 
deposited  rock,  which  I subjoin,  will  give  you  some  idea  of  the  properties 
of  the  water,  which,  with  the  exception  of  the  Beer  springs,  is  the  mineral 
water  of  the  place.*  It  is  a hot  spring,  and  the  water  has  a pungent  and 
disagreeable  metallic  taste,  leaving  a burning  effect  on  the  tongue.  Within 
perhaps  two  yards  of  th q jet-d’eau  is  a small  hole  of  about  an  inch  in  diam- 
eter, through  which,  at  regular  intervals,  escapes  a blast  of  hot  air  with  a 
light  wreath  of  smoke,  accompanied  by  a regular  noise.  This  hole  had 
been  noticed  by  Doctor  Wislizenus,  a gentleman  who  several  years  since 
passed  by  this  place,  and  who  remarked,  with  very  nice  observation,  that 
smelling  the  gas  which  issued  from  the  orifice  produced  a sensation  of  gid- 
diness and  nausea.  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  repeated  the  observation,  and 
were  so  well  satisfied  with  its  correctness,  that  we  did  not  find  it  pleasant  to 
continue  the  experiment,  as  the  sensation  of  giddiness  which  it  produced 
was  certainly  strong  and  decided.  A huge  emigrant  wagon,  with  a large 
and  diversified  family,  had  overtaken  us  and  halted  to  noon^it  our  encamp- 
ment; and,  while  we  were  sitting  at  the  spring,  a band  of  boys  and  girls, 


* ANALYSIS. 


Carbonate  of  lime 
Carbonate  of  magnesia  - 
Oxide  of  iron 
Silica  ^ 

Alumina  C 

Water  and  loss  j 


- 92  55 

- 0.42 

- 1.05 

- 5.98 


100.00 


II 


n 


% 1 1 1 M 0 S 

■o  an  Inch  . 


I ith  t »•  E Weber  i.  Co 


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137  [ 174  ] 

with  two  or  three  young  men,  came  up,  one  of  whom  I asked  to  stoop 
down  and  smell  the  gas,  desirous  to  satisfy  myself  further  of  its  effects.  But 
his  natural  caution  had  been  awakened  by  the  singular  and  suspicious 
features  of  the  place,  and  he  declined  my  proposal  decidedly,  and  with  a 
few  indistinct  remarks  about  the  devil,  whom  he  seemed  to  consider  the 
genius  loci.  The  ceaseless  motion  and  the  play  of  the  fountain,  the  red 
rock,  and  the  green  trees  near,  make  this  a picturesque  spot. 

A short  distance  above  the  spring,  and  near  the  foot  of  the  same  spur,  is  a 
very  remarkable  yellow-colored  rock,  soft  and  friable,  consisting  principally 
of  carbonate  of  lime  and  oxide  of  iron,  of  regular  structure,  which  is  prob- 
ably a fossil  coral.  The  rocky  bank  along  the  shore  between  the  Steam- 
boat spring  and  our  encampment,  along  which  is  dispersed  the  water  from 
the  hills,  is  composed  entirely  of  strata  of  a calcareous  tufa,  with  the  re- 
mains of  moss  and  reed-like  grasses,  which  is  probably  the  formation  of 
springs.  The  Beer  or  Soda  springs , which  have  given  name  to  this  locality, 
are  agreeable,  but  less  highly  flavored  than  the  Boiling  springs  at  the  foot 
of  Pike’s  peak,  which  are  of  the  same  character.  They  are  very  numerous, 
and  half  hidden  by  tufts  of  grass,  which  we  amused  ourselves  in  removing 
and  searching  about  for  more  highly  impregnated  springs.  They  are  some 
of  them  deep,  and  of  various  sizes — sometimes  several  yards  in  diameter, 
and  kept  in  constant  motion  by  columns  of  escaping  gas.  By  analysis,  one 


quart  of  the  water  contains  as  follows  : 
Sulphate  of  magnesia  ... 

Grains- 

- 12.10 

Sulphate  of  lime  - 

- 

- 2.12 

Carbonate  of  lime  - 

. 

- 

- 3.86 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  ... 

- 

- 

- 3.22 

Chloride  of  calcium 

- 

- 

- 1.33 

Chloride  of  magnesium  - 

- 

- 

- 1.12 

Chloride  of  sodium  ... 

- 

- 

- 2.24 

Vegetable  extractive  matter,  &c. 

- 

- 

- 0.85 

26.34 


The  carbonic  acid,  originally  contained  in  the  water,  had  mainly  escaped 
before  it  was  subjected  to  analysis ; and  it  was  not,  therefore,  taken  into 
consideration. 

In  the  afternoon  I wandered  about  among  the  cedars,  which  occupy  the 
greater  part  of  the  bottom  towards  the  mountains.  The  soil  here  has  a dry 
and  calcined  appearance;  in  some  places,  the  open  grounds  are  covered 
with  saline  efflorescences,  and  there  are  a number  of  regularly  shaped  and 
very  remarkable  hills,  which  are  formed  of  a.  succession  of  convex  strata 
that  have  been  deposited  by  the  waters  of  extinct  springs,  the  orifices  of 
which  are  found  on  their  summits,  some  of  them  having  the  form  of  fun- 
nel-shaped cones.  Others  of  these  remarkably  shaped  hills  are  of  a red- 
colored  earth,  entirely  bare,  and  composed  principally  of  carbonate  of  lime, 
with  oxide  of  iron,  formed  in  the  same  manner.  Walking  near  one  of 
them,  on  the  summit  of  which  the  springs  were  dry,  my  attention  was  at- 
tracted by  an  underground  noise,  around  which  I circled  repeatedly,  until 
I found  the  spot  from  beneath  which  it  came  ; and,  removing  the  red  earth, 
discovered  a hidden  spring,  which  was  boiling  up  from  below,  with  the 
same  disagreeable  metallic  taste  as  the  Steamboat  spring.  Continuing  up 


138 


[ 174  ] 

the  bottom,  and  crossing  the  little  stream  which  has  been  already  mentioned, 

I visited  several  remarkable  red  and  white  hills,  which  had  attracted  my 
attention  from  the  road  in  the  morning.  These  are  immediately  upon  the 
stream,  and,  like  those  already  mentioned,  are  formed  by  the  deposition  of 
successive  strata  from  the  springs.  On  their  summits,  the  orifices  through 
which  the  waters  had  been  discharged  were  so  large  that  they  resembled 
miniature  craters,  being  some  of  them  several  feet  in  diameter,  circular,  and 
regularly  formed  as  if  by  art.  At  a former  time,  when  these  dried-up  foun- 
tains were  all  in  motion,  they  must  have  made  a beautiful  display  on  a 
grand  scale ; and  nearly  all  this  basin  appears  to  me  to  have  been  formed 
under  their  action,  and  should  be  called  the  place  of  fountains.  At  the 
foot  of  one  of  these  hills,  or  rather  on  its  side  near  the  base,  are  several  of 
these  small  limestone  columns,  about  one  foot  in  diameter  at  the  base,  and 
tapering  upwards  to  a height  of  three  or  four  feet ; and  on  the  summit  the 
water  is  boiling  up  and  bubbling  over,  constantly  adding  to  the  height  of 
the  little  obelisks.  In  some,  the  water  only  boils  up,  no  longer  overflowing, 
and  has  here  the  same  taste  as  at  the  Steamboat  spring.  The  observer  will 
remark  a gradual  subsidence  in  the  water,  which  formerly  supplied  the 
fountains,  as  on  all  the  summits  of  the  hills  the  springs  are  now  dry,  and 
are  found  only  low  down  upon  their  sides,  or  on  the  surrounding  plain. 

A little  higher  up  the  creek,  its  banks  are  formed  by  strata  of  a very 
heavy  and  hard  scoriaceous  basalt,  having  a bright  metallic  lustre  when 
broken.  The  mountains  overlooking  the  plain  are  of  an  entirely  different 
geological  character.  Continuing  on,  I walked  to  the  summit  of  one  of 
them,  where  the  principal  rock  was  a granular  quartz.  Descending  the 
mountains,  and  returning  towards  the  camp  along  the  base  of  the  ridge 
which  skirts  the  plain,  I found  at  the  foot  of  a mountain  spur,  and  issuing 
from  a compact  rock  of  a dark-blue  color,  a great  number  of  springs  hav- 
ing the  same  pungent  and  disagreeably  metallic  taste  already  mentioned, 
the  water  of  which  was  collected  into  a very  remarkable  basin,  whose  sin- 
gularity, perhaps,  made  it  appear  to  me  very  beautiful.  It  is  large — 
perhaps  fifty  yards  in  circumference ; and  in  it  the  water  is  contained  at 
an  elevation  of  several  feet  above  the  surrounding  ground  by  a wall  of  cal- 
careous tufa , composed  principally  of  the  remains  of  mosses,  three  or  four, 
and  sometimes  ten  feet  high.  The  water  within  is  very  clear  and  pure, 
and  three  or  four  feet  deep,  where  it  could  be  conveniently  measured  near 
the  wall;  and,  at  a considerably  lower  level,  is  another  pond  or  basin  of 
very  clear  water,  and  apparently  of  considerable  depth,  from  the  bottom  of 
which  the  gas  was  escaping  in  bubbling  columns  at  many  places.  This 
water  was  collected  into  a small  stream,  which,  in  a few  hundred  yards, 
sank  under  ground,  reappearing  among  the  rocks  between  the  two  great 
springs  near  the  river,  which  it  entered  by  a little  fall. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  I sat  out  on  my  return  to  the  camp,  and,  crossing 
in  the  way  a large  field  of  a salt  that  was  several  inches  deep,  found  on  my 
arrival  that  our  emigrant  friends,  who  had  been  encamped  in  company  with 
us,  had  resumed  their  journey,  and  the  road  had  again  assumed  its  solitary 
character.  The  temperature  of  the  largest  of  the  Beer  springs  at  our  en- 
campment was  65°  at  sunset,  that  of  the  air  being  62.5°.  Our  barometric 
observation  gave  5,840  feet  for  the  elevation  above  the  gulf,  being  about  500 
feet  lower  than  the  Boiling  springs,  which  are  of  a similar  nature,  at  the  foot 
of  Pike’s  peak.  The  astronomical  observations  gave  for  our  latitude  42° 
39'  57",  and  1110  46'  00"  for  the  longitude.  The  night  was  very  still  and 


139 


[ 1?4  ] 

cloudless,  and  I sat  up  for  an  observation  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter, 
the  emersion  of  which  took  place  about  midnight ; but  fell  asleep  at  the 
telescope,  awaking  just  a few  minutes  after  the  appearance  of  the  star. 

The  morning  of  the  26th  was  calm,  and  the  sky  without  clouds,  but 
smoky;  and  the  temperature  at  sunrise  2S.50.  At  the  same  time,  the  tem- 
perature of  the  large  Beer  spring,  where  we  were  encamped,  was  56°;  that 
of  the  Steamboat  spring  87°;  and  that  of  the  steam  hole,  near  it,  81.5°.  In 
the  course  of  the  morning,  the  last  wagons  of  the  emigration  passed  by, 
and  we  were  again  left  in  our  place,  in  the  rear. 

Remaining  in  camp  until  nearly  11  o’clock,  we  travelled  a short  distance 
down  the  river,  and  halted  to  noon  on  the  bank,  at  a point  where  the  road 
quits  the  valley  of  Bear  river,  and,  crossing  a ridge  which  divides  the  Great 
Basin  from  the  Pacific  waters,  reaches  Fort  Hall,  by  way  of  the  Portneuf 
river,  in  a distance  of  probably  fifty  miles,  or  two  and  a half  days’ journey 
for  wagons.  An  examination  of  the  great  lake  which  is  the  outlet  of  this 
river,  and  the  principal  feature  of  geographical  interest  in  the  basin,  was 
one  of  the  main  objects  contemplated  in  the  general  plan  of  our  survey,  and 
I accordingly  determined  at  this  place  to  leave  the  road,  and,  after  having 
completed  a reconnoissance  of  the  lake,  regain  it  subsequently  at  Fort  Hall. 
But  our  little  stock  of  provisions  had  again  become  extremely  low  ; we  had 
only  dried  meat  sufficient  for  one  meal,  and  our  supply  of  flour  and  other 
comforts  was  entirely  exhausted.  I therefore  immediately  despatched  one 
of  the  party,  Henry  Lee,  with  a note  to  Carson,  at  Fort  Hall,  directing 
him  to  load  a pack  horse  with  whatever  could  be  obtained  there  in  the 
way  of  provisions,  and  endeavor  to  overtake  me  on  the  river.  In  the 
mean  time,  we  had  picked  up  along  the  road  two  tolerably  well-grown 
calves,  which  would  have  become  food  for  wolves,  and  which  had  proba- 
bly been  left  by  some  of  the  earlier  emigrants,  none  of  those  we  had  met 
having  made  any  claim  to  them ; and  on  these  I mainly  relied  for  support 
during  our  circuit  to  the  lake. 

In  sweeping  around  the  point  of  the  mountain  which  runs  down  into  the 
bend,  the  river  here  passes  between  perpendicular  walls  of  basalt,  which 
always  fix  the  attention,  from  the  regular  form  in  which  it  occurs,  and  its 
perfect  distinctness  from  the  surrounding  rocks  among  which  it  has  been 
placed.  The  mountain,  which  is  rugged  and  steep,  and,  by  our  measure- 
ment, 1,400  feet  above  the  river  directly  opposite  the  place  of  our  halt,  is 
called  the  Sheep  rock — probably  because  a flock  of  the  common  mountain 
sheep  {ovis  montana ) had  been  seen  on  the  craggy  point. 

As  we  were  about  resuming  our  march  in  the  afternoon,  I was  attracted 
by  the  singular  appearance  of  an  isolated  hill  with  a concave  summit,  in 
the  plain,  about  two  miies  from  the  river,  and  turned  off  towards  it,  while 
tho  camp  proceeded  on  its  way  to  the  southward  in  search  of  the  lake.  I 
found  the  thin  and  stony  soil  of  the  plain  entirely  underlaid  by  the  basalt 
which  forms  the  river  walls;  and  when  I reached  the  neighborhood  of  the 
hill,  the  surface  of  the  plain  was  rent  into  frequent  fissures  and  chasms  of 
the  same  scoriated  volcanic  rock,  from  forty  to  sixty  feet  deep,  but  which 
there  was  not  sufficient  light  to  penetrate  entirely,  and  which  I had  not 
time  to  descend.  Arrived  at  the  summit  of  the  hill,  I found  that  it  termi- 
nated in  a very  perfect  crater,  of  an  oval,  or  nearly  circular  form,  360 
paces  in  circumference,  and  60  feet  at  the  greatest  depth.  The  walls, 
which  were  perfectly  vertical,  and  disposed  like  masonry  in  a very  regular 
manner,  were  composed  of  a brown-colored  scoriaceous  lava,  evidently 


140 


[ 174  ] 

the  production  of  a modern  volcano,  and  having  all  the  appearance  of  the 
lighter  scoriaceous  lavas  of  Mount  Aitna,  Vesuvius,  and  other  volcanoes. 
The  faces  of  the  walls  were  reddened  and  glazed  by  the  fire,  in  which  they 
had  been  melted,  and  which  had  left  them  contorted  and  twisted  by  its 
violent  action. 

Our  route  during  the  afternoon  was  a little  rough,  being  (in  the  direction 
we  had  taken)  over  a volcanic  plain,  where  our  progress  was  sometimes 
obstructed  by  fissures,  and  black  beds  composed  of  fragments  of  the  rock. 
On  both  sides,  the  mountains  appeared  very  broken,  but  tolerably  well 
timbered. 

August  26. — Crossing  a point  of  ridge  which  makes  in  to  the  river,  we 
fell  upon  it  again  before  sunset,  and  encamped  on  the  right  bank,  opposite 
to  the  encampment  of  three  lodges  of  Snake  Indians.  They  visited  us 
during  the  evening,  and  we  obtained  from  them  a small  quantity  of  roots 
of  different  kinds,  in  exchange  for  goods.  Among  them  was  a sweet  root 
of  very  pleasant  flavor,  having  somewhat  the  taste  of  preserved  quince. 
My  endeavors  to  become  acquainted  with  the  plants  which  furnish  to  the 
Indians  a portion  of  their  support  were  only  gradually  successful,  and  af- 
ter long  and  persevering  attention;  and  even  after  obtaining,  I did  not  suc- 
ceed in  preserving  them  until  they  could  be  satisfactorily  determined.  In 
this  portion  of  the  journey,  I found  this  particular  root  cut  up  into  such 
small  pieces,  that  it  was  only  to  be  identified  by  its  taste,  when  the  bulb 
was  met  with  in  perfect  form  among  the  Indians  lower  down  on  the  Co- 
lumbia, among  whom  it  is  the  highly  celebrated  kamas.  It  was  long  af- 
terwards, on  our  return  through  Upper  California,  that  I found  the  plant 
itself  in  bloom,  which  I supposed  to  furnish  the  kamas  root,  ( camassia  es~ 
culenta.)  The  root  diet  had  a rather  mournful  effect  at  the  commence- 
ment, and  one  of  the  calves  was  killed  this  evening  for  food.  The  animals 
fared  well  on  rushes. 

August  27. — The  morning  was  cloudy,  with  appearance  of  rain,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  29°.  Making  an  unusually  early  start,  we 
crossed  the  river  at  a good  ford  ; and,  following  for  about  three  hours  a trail 
which  led  along  the  bottom,  we  entered  a labyrinth  of  hills  below  the  main 
ridge,  and  halted  to  noon  in  the  ravine  of  a pretty  little  stream,  timbered 
with  cottonwood  of  a large  size,  ash- leaved  maple,  with  cherry  and  other 
shrubby  trees.  The  hazy  weather,  which  had  prevented  any  very  extended 
views  since  entering  the  Green  river  valley,  began  now  to  disappear.  There 
was  a slight  rain  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  day,  and  at  noon,  when  the  ther- 
mometer had  risen  to  79.5°,  we  had  a bright  sun,  with  blue  sky  and  scat- 
tered cumuli.  According  to  the  barometer,  our  halt  here  among  the  hills 
was  at  an  elevation  of  5,320  feet.  Crossing  a dividing  ridge  in  the  after- 
noon, we  followed  down  another  little  Bear  river  tributary,  to  the  point 
where  it  emerged  on  an  open  green  flat  among  the  hills,  timbered  with 
groves,  and  bordered  with  cane  thickets,  but  without  water.  A pretty  little 
rivulet,  coming  out  of  the  hill  side,  and  overhung  by  tall  flowering  plants 
of  a species  1 had  not  hitherto  seen,  furnished  us  with  a good  camping 
place.  The  evening  was  cloudy,  the  temperature  at  sunset  69°,  and  the  ele- 
vation 5,140  feet.  Among  the  plants  occurring  along  the  line  of  road  dur- 
ing the  day,  epinettes  des  prairies  (grindelia  squarrosa)  was  in  considera- 
ble abundance,  and  is  among  the  very  few  plants  remaining  in  bloom — 
the  whole  country  having  now  an  autumnal  appearance,  in  the  crisped  and 


141  [ 174  ] 

yellow  plants,  and  dried-up  grasses.  Many  cranes  were  seen  during  the 
day,  with  a few  antelope,  very  shy  and  wild. 

August  28. — During  the  night  we  had  a thunder  storm,  with  moderate 
rain,  which  has  made  the  air  this  morning  very  clear,  the  thermometer 
being  at  55°.  Leaving  our  encampment  at  the  Cane  spring , and  quitting 
the  trail  on  which  we  had  been  travelling,  and  which  would  probably  have 
afforded  us  a good  road  to  the  lake,  we  crossed  some  very  deep  ravines,  and, 
in  about  an  hour’s  travelling,  again  reached  the  river.  We  were  now  in  a 
valley  five  or  six  miles  wide,  between  mountain  ranges,  which,  about  thirty 
miles  below,  appeared  to  close  up  and  terminate  the  valley,  leaving  for  the 
river  only  a very  narrow  pass,  or  canon,  behind  which  we  imagined  that 
we  should  find  the  broad  waters  of  the  lake.  We  made  the  usual  halt  at 
the  mouth  of  a small  clear  stream,  having  a slightly  mineral  taste,  (perhaps 
of  salt,)  4,760  feet  above  the  gulf.  In  the  afternoon  we  climbed  a very 
steep  sandy  hill ; and,  after  a slow  and  winding  day’s  march  of  27  miles, 
encamped  at  a slough  on  the  river.  There  were  great  quantities  of  geese 
and  ducks,  of  which  only  a few  were  shot ; the  Indians  having  probably 
made  them  very  wild.  The  men  employed  themselves  in  fishing,  but  caught 
nothing.  A skunk,  ( mephitis  Americana,)  which  was  killed  in  the  after- 
noon, made  a supper  for  one  of  the  messes.  The  river  is  bordered  occa- 
sionally with  fields  of  cane,  which  we  regarded  as  an  indication  of  our 
approach  to  a lake  country.  We  had  frequent  showers  of  rain  during  the 
night,  with  thunder. 

August  29. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  54°,  with  air  from  the 
NW.,  and  dark  rainy  clouds  moving  on  the  horizon;  rain  squalls  and 
bright  sunshine  by  intervals.  I rode  ahead  with  Basil  to  explore  the  coun- 
try, and,  continuing  about  three  miles  along  the  river,  turned  directly  off  on 
a trail  running  towards  three  marked  gaps  in  the  bordering  range,  where 
the  mountains  appeared  cut  through  to  their  bases,  towards  which  the  river 
plain  rose  gradually.  Putting  our  horses  into  a gallop  on  some  fresh  tracks 
which  showed  very  plainly  in  the  wet  path,  we  came  suddenly  upon  a 
small  party  of  Shoshonee  Indians,  who  had  fallen  into  the  trail  from  the 
north.  We  could  only  communicate  by  signs;  but  they  made  us  under- 
stand that  the  road  through  the  chain  was  a very  excellent  one,  leading 
into  a broad  valley  which  ran  to  the  southward.  VVe  halted  to  noon  at 
what  may  be  called  the  gate  of  the  pass;  on  either  side  of  which  were 
huge  mountains  of  rock,  between  which  stole  a little  pure  water  stream, 
with  a margin  just  sufficiently  large  for  our  passage.  From  the  river,  the 
plain  had  gradually  risen  to  an  altitude  of  5,500  feet,  and,  by  meridian  ob- 
servation, the  latitude  of  the  entrance  was  42°. 

In  the  interval  of  our  usual  halt,  several  of  us  wandered  along  up  the 
stream  to  examine  the  pass  more  at  leisure.  Within  the  gate,  the  rocks 
receded  a little  back,  leaving  a very  narrow,  but  most  beautiful  valley, 
through  which  the  little  stream  wound  its  way,  hidden  by  different  kinds 
of  trees  and  shrubs — aspen,  maple,  willow,  cherry,  and  elder  ; a fine  ver- 
dure of  smooth  short  grass  spread  over  the  remaining  space  to  the  bare 
sides  of  the  rocky  walls.  These  were  of  a blue  limestone,  which  constitutes 
the  mountain  here  ; and  opening  directly  on  the  grassy  bottom  were  sev- 
eral curious  caves,  which  appeared  to  be  inhabited  by  root  diggers.  On  one 
side  was  gathered  a heap  of  leaves  for  a bed,  and  they  were,  dry,  open, 
and  pleasant.  On  the  roofs  of  the  caves  I remarked  bituminous  exuda- 
tions from  the  rock. 


142 


[ 174  ] 

The  trail  was  an  excellent  one  for  pack  horses;  but,  as  it  sometimes 
crossed  a shelving  point,  to  avoid  the  shrubbery  we  were  obliged  in  several 
places  to  open  a road  for  the  carriage  through  the  wood.  A squaw  on  horse- 
back, accompanied  by  five  or  six  dogs,  entered  the  pass  in  the  afternoon; 
but  was  too  much  terrified  at  finding  herself  in  such  unexpected  company 
to  make  any  pause  for  conversation,  and  hurried  off  at  a good  pace — being, 
of  course,  no  further  disturbed  than  by  an  accelerating  shout.  She  was 
well  and  showily  dressed,  and  was  probably  going  to  a village  encamped 
somewhere  near,  and  evidently  did  not  belong  to  the  tribe  of  root  diggers . 
We  had  now  entered  a country  inhabited  by  these  people ; and  as  in  the 
course  of  our  voyage  we  shall  frequently  meet  with  them  in  various  stages 
of  existence,  it  will  be  well  to  inform  you  that,  scattered  over  the  great 
region  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  south  of  the  Great  Snake  river, 
are  numerous  Indians  whose  subsistence  is  almost  solely  derived  from  roots 
and  seeds,  and  such  small  animals  as  chance  and  great  good  fortune  some- 
times bring  within  their  reach.  They  are  miserably  poor,  armed  only  with 
bow  s and  arrows,  or  clubs  ; and,  as  the  country  they  inhabit  is  almost 
destitute  of  game,  they  have  no  means  of  obtaining  better  arms.  In  the 
northern  part  of  the  region  just  mentioned,  they  live  generally  in  solitary 
families ; and  farther  to  the  south,  they  are  gathered  together  in  villages. 
Those  who  live  together  in  villages,  strengthened  by  association,  are  in 
exclusive  possession  of  the  more  genial  and  richer  parts  of  the  country; 
while  the  others  are  driven  to  the  ruder  mountains,  and  to  the  more  in- 
hospitable parts  of  the  country.  But  by  simply  observing,  in  accompanying 
us  along  our  road,  you  will  become  better  acquainted  with  these  people 
than  we  could  make  you  in  any  other  than  a very  long  description,  and 
you  will  find  them  worthy  of  your  interest. 

Roots,  seeds,  and  grass,  every  vegetable  that  affords  any  nourishment, 
and  every  living  animal  thing,  insect  or  worm,  they  eat.  Nearly  approach- 
ing to  the  lower  animal  creation,  their  sole  employment  is  to  obtain  food; 
and  they  are  constantly  occupied  in  a struggle  to  support  existence. 

In  the  annexed  view  will  be  found  a sketch  of  the  Standing  rock — the 
most  remarkable  feature  of  the  pass,  where  a huge  rock,  fallen  from  the 
cliffs  above,  and  standing  perpendicularly  near  the  middle  of  the  valley, 
presents  itself  like  a watch  tower  in  the  pass.  It  will  give  you  a tolerably 
correct  idea  of  the  character  of  the  scenery  in  this  country,  where  generally 
the  mountains  rise  abruptly  up  from  comparatively  unbroken  plains  and 
level  valleys  ; but  it  will  entirely  fail  in  representing  the  picturesque  beauty 
of  this  delightful  place,  where  a green  valley,  full  of  foliage,  and  a hundred 
yards  wide,  contrasts  with  naked  crags  that  spire  up  into  a blue  line  of  pin- 
nacles 3,000  feet  above,  sometimes  crested  with  cedar  and  pine,  and  some- 
times ragged  and  bare. 

The  detention  that  we  met  with  in  opening  the  road,  and  perhaps  a wil- 
lingness to  linger  on  the  way,  made  the  afternoon’s  travel  short ; and  about 
two  miles  from  the  entrance  we  passed  through  another  gate,  and  en- 
camped on  the  stream  at  the  junction  of  a little  fork  from  the  southward, 
around  which  the  mountains  stooped  more  gently  down,  forming  a small 
open  cove. 

As  it  was  still  early  in  the  afternoon,  Basil  and  myself  in  one  direction, 
and  Mr.  Preuss  in  another,  set  out  to  explore  the  country,  and  ascended 
different  neighboring  peaks,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  some  indications  of  the 
lake  ; but  though  our  elevation  afforded  magnificent  views,  the  eye  ranging 


Kouaqpgir,  p jscpji  j /?  • 'HPT 


143 


C H4  ] 

over  a long  extent  of  Bear  river,  with  the  broad  and  fertile  Cache  valley 
in  the  direction  of  our  search,  was  only  to  be  seen  a bed  of  apparently 
impracticable  mountains.  Among  these,  the  trail  we  had  been  following 
turned  sharply  to  the  northward,  and  it  began  to  be  doubtful  if  it  would 
not  lead  us  away  from  the  object  of  our  destination  ; but  I nevertheless  de- 
termined to  keep  it,  in  the  belief  that  it  would  eventually  bring  us  right. 
A squall  of  rain  drove  us  out  of  the  mountain,  and  it  was  late  when  we 
reached  the  camp.  The  evening  closed  in  with  frequent  showers  of  rain, 
with  some  lightning  and  thunder. 

August  30. — We  had  constant  thunder  storms  during  the  night,  but  in  the 
morning  the  clouds  were  sinking  to  the  horizon,  and  the  air  was  clear  and 
cold,  with  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  39°.  Elevation  by  barometer  5,5S0 
feet.  We  were  in  motion  early,  continuing  up  the  little  stream  without  en- 
countering any  ascent  where  a horse  would  not  easily  gallop,  and,  crossing 
a slight  dividing  ground  at  the  summit,  descended  upon  a small  stream, 
along  which  we  continued  on  the  same  excellent  road.  In  riding  through 
the  pass,  numerous  cranes  were  seen  ; and  prairie  hens,  or  grouse,  (bonasia 
umbellus ,)  which  lately  had  been  rare,  were  very  abundant. 

This  little  affluent  brought  us  to  a larger  stream,  down  which  we  travelled 
through  a more  open  bottom,  on  a level  road,  where  heavily-laden  wagons 
could  pass  without  obstacle.  The  hills  on  the  right  grew  lower,  and,  on 
entering  a more  open  country,  we  discovered  a Shoshonee  village  ; and  be- 
ing desirous  to  obtain  information,  and  purchase  from  them  some  roots  and 
berries,  we  halted  on  the  river,  which  was  lightly  wooded  with  cherry,  wil- 
low, maple,  service  berry,  and  aspen.  A meridian  observation  of  the  sun, 
which  I obtained  here,  gave  42°  14’  22"  for  our  latitude,  and  the  barometer 
indicated  a height  of  .5,170  feet.  A number  of  Indians  came  immediately 
over  to  visit  us,  and  several  men  were  sent  to  the  village  with  goods,  tobacco, 
knives,  cloth,  vermilion,  and  the  usual  trinkets,  to  exchange  for  provisions. 
But  they  had  no  game  of  any  kind ; and  it  was  difficult  to  obtain  any  roots 
from  them,  as  they  were  miserably  poor,  and  had  but  little  to  spare  from 
their  winter  stock  of  provisions.  Several  of  the  Indians  drew  aside  their 
blankets,  showing  me  their  lean  and  bony  figures  ; and  I would  not.  any 
longer  tempt  them  with  a display  of  our  merchandise  to  part  with  their 
wretched  subsistence,  when  they  gave  as  a reason  that  it  would  expose 
them  to  temporary  starvation.  A great  portion  of  the  region  inhabited  by 
this  nation  formerly  abounded  in  game  ; the  buffalo  ranging  about  in  herds, 
as  we  had  found  them  on  the  eastern  waters,  and  the  plains  dotted  with  scat- 
tered bands  of  antelope  ; but  so  rapidly  have  they  disappeared  within  a few 
years,  that  now,  as  we  journeyed  along,  an  occasional  buffalo  skull  and  a 
few  wild  antelope  were  all  that  remained  of  the  abundance  which  had 
covered  the  country  with  animal  life. 

The  extraordinary  rapidity  with  which  the  buffalo  is  disappearing  from 
our  territories  will  not  appear  surprising  when  we  remember  the  great 
scale  on  which  their  destruction  is  yearly  carried  on.  With  inconsiderable 
exceptions,  the  business  of  the  American  trading  posts  is  carried  on  in  their 
skins  ; every  year  the  Indian  villages  make  new  lodges,  for  which  the  skin 
of  the  buffalo  furnishes  the  material ; and  in  that  portion  of  the  country 
where  they  are  still  found,  the  Indians  derive  their  entire  support  from 
them,  and  slaughter  them  with  a thoughtless  and  abominable  extrava- 
gance. Like  the  Indians  themselves,  they  have  been  a characteristic  of 
the  Great  West;  and  as,  like  them,  they  are  visibly  diminishing,  it  will  be 


144 


[ 174  ] 

interesting  to  throw  a glance  backward  through  the  last  twenty  years,  and 
give  some  account  of  their  former  distribution  through  the  country,  and  the 
limit  of  their  western  range. 

The  information  is  derived  principally  from  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  supported 
by  my  own  personal  knowledge  and  acquaintance  with  the  country.  Our 
knowledge  does  not  go  farther  back  than  the  spring  of  1S24,  at  which  time 
the  buffalo  were  spread  in  immense  numbers  over  the  Green  river  and  Bear 
river  valleys,  and  through  all  the  country  lying  between  the  Colorado,  or 
Green  river  of  the  gulf  of  California,  and  Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Columbia 
river;  the  meridian  of  Fort  Hall  then  forming  the  western  limit  of  their 
range.  The  buffalo  then  remained  for  many  years  in  that  country,  and 
frequently  moved  down  the  valley  of  the  Columbia,  on  both  sides  of  the 
river  as  far  as  the  Fishing  Jails.  Below  this  point  they  never  descended 
in  any  numbers.  About  the  year  1S34  or  1835  they  began  to  diminish 
very  rapidly,  and  continued  to  decrease  until  1838  or  1840,  when,  with  the 
country  we  have  just  described,  they  entirely  abandoned  all  the  waters  of 
the  Pacific  north  of  Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Columbia.  At  that  time, the  Flat* 
head  Indians  were  in  the  habit  of  finding  their  buffalo  on  the  heads  of  Sal* 
mon  river,  and  other  streams  of  the  Columbia ; but  now  they  never  meet 
with  them  farther  west  than  the  three  forks  of  the  Missouri  or  the  plains 
of  the  Yellowstone  river. 

In  the  course  of  our  journey  it  will  be  remarked  that  the  buffalo  have  not 
so  entirely  abandoned  the  waters  of  the  Pacific,  in  the  Rocky-mountain  re- 
gion south  of  the  Sweet  Water,  as  in  the  country  north  of  the  Great  Pass. 
This  partial  distribution  can  only  be  accounted  for  in  the  great  pastoral 
beauty  of  that  country,  which  bears  marks  of  having  long  been  one  of  their 
favorite  haunts,  and  by  the  fact  that  the  white  hunters  have  more  frequent- 
ed the  northern  than  the  southern  region — it  being  north  of  the  South  Pass 
that  the  hunters,  trappers,  and  traders,  have  had  their  rendezvous  for  many 
years  past ; and  from  that  section  also  the  greater  portion  of  the  beaver  and 
rich  furs  were  taken,  although  always  the  most  dangerous  as  well  as  the 
most  profitable  hunting  ground. 

In  that  region  lying  between  the  Green  or  Colorado  river  and  the  head 
waters  of  the  Rio  del  Norte,  over  the  Yampah , Kooyah*  While , and  Grand 
rivers — all  of  which  are  the  waters  of  the  Colorado — the  buffalo  never  ex- 
tended so  far  to  the  westward  as  they  did  on  the  waters  of  the  Columbia; 
and  only  in  one  or  two  instances  have  they  been  known  to  descend  as  far 
west  as  the  mouth  of  White  river.  In  travelling  through  the  country  west 
of  the  Rocky  mountains,  observation  readily  led  me  to  the  impression  that 
the  buffalo  had,  for  the  first  time,  crossed  that  range  to  the  waters  of  the 
Pacific  only  a few  years  prior  to  the  period  we  are  considering ; and  in  this 
opinion  I am  sustained  by  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  and  the  older  trappers  in  that 
country.  In  the  region  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  we  never  meet  with 
any  of  the  ancient  vestiges  which,  throughout  all  the  country  lying  upon 
their  eastern  waters,  are  found  in  the  great  highivays , continuous  for  hun- 
dreds of  miles,  always  several  inches  and  sometimes  several  feet  in  depth, 
which  the  buffalo  have  made  in  crossing  from  one  river  to  another,  or  in 
traversing  the  mountaiu  ranges.  The  Snake  Indians,  more  particularly 
those  low  down  upon  Lewis’s  fork,  have  always  been  very  grateful  to  the 
American  trappers,  for  the  great  kindness  (as  they  frequently  expressed  it) 
which  they  did  to  them,  in  driving  the  buffalo  so  low  down  the  Columbia 
river. 

The  extraordinary  abundance  of  the  buffalo  on  the  east  side  of  the  Rocky 


145 


C 574  ] 


mountains,  and  their  extraordinary  diminution,  will  be  made  clearly  evi- 
dent from  the  following  statement  : At  any  time  between  the  years  1824 
and  1836,  a traveller  might  start  from  any  given  point  south  or  north  in  the 
Rocky  mountain  range,  journeying  by  the  most  direct  route  to  the  Missouri 
river  ; and,  during  the  whole  distance,  his  road  would  be  always  among 
large  bands  of  buffalo,  which  would  never  be  out  of  his  view  until  he  ar- 
rived almost  within  sight  of  the  abodes  of  civilization. 

At  thistiine,  the  buffalo  occupy  but  a very  limited  space,  principally  along 
the  eastern  base  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  sometimes  extending  at  their 
southern  extremity  to  a considerable  distance  into  the  plains  between  the 
Platte  and  Arkansas  rivers,  and  along  the  eastern  frontier  of  New  Mexico 
as  far  south  as  Texas. 

The  following  statement,  which  I owe  to  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Sanford, 
a.  partner  in  the  American  F ur  Company,  will  further  illustrate  this  subject, 
by  extensive  knowledge  acquired  during  several  years  of  travel  through  the 
region  inhabited  by  the  buffalo  : 

u Thp  total  amount  of  robes  annually  traded  by  ourselves  and  others 
will  not  be  found  to  differ  much  from  the  following  statement  : 

Robes. 

American  Fur  Company  -----  70,000 

Hudson’s  Bay  Company  -----  10,000 

All  other  companies^  probablj  - 10,000 


Making  a total  of  - . - - - - 90,000 

as  an  average  annual  return  for  the  last  eight  or  ten  years. 

u In  the  northwest,  the  Hudson’s  Bay  Company  purchase  from  the  In- 
dians but  a very  small  number — their  only  market  being  Canada,  to  which 
the  cost  of  transportation  nearly  equals  the  produce  of  the  furs ; and  it  is  only 
within  a very  recent  period  that  they  have  received  buffalo  robes  in  trade  ; 
and  out  of  the  great  number  of  buffalo  annually  killed  throughout  the  ex- 
tensive regions  inhabited  by  the  Camanches  and  other  kindred  tribes,  no 
robes  whatever  are  furnished  for  trade.  During  only  four  months  of  the 
year,  (from  November  until  March,)  the  skins  are  good  for  dressing;  those 
obtained  in  the  remaining  eight  months  being  valueless  to  traders  ; and  the 
hides  of  bulls  are  never  taken  off  or  dressed  as  robes  at  any  season.  , Prob- 
ably not  more  than  one-third  of  the  skins  are  taken  from  the  animals  killed, 
even  when  they  are  in  good  season,  the  labor  of  preparing  and  dressing  the 
robes  being  very  great;  and  it  is  seldom  that  a lodge  trades  more  than 
twenty  skins  in  a year.  It  is  during  the  summer  months,  and  in  the  early 
part  of  autumn,  that  the  greatest  number  of  buffalo  are  killed,  and  yet  at 
this  time  a skin  is  never  taken  for  the  purpose  of  trade.” 


From  these  data,  which  are  certainly  limited,  and  decidedly  within 
bounds,  the  reader  is  left  to  draw  his  own  inference  of  the  immense  num- 
ber annually  killed. 

In  1842,  I found  the  Sioux  Indians  of  the  Upper  Platte  demontes , as  their 
French  traders  expressed  it,  writh  the  failure  of  the  buffalo  ; and  in  the  fol- 
lowing year,  large  villages  from  the  Upper  Missouri  came  over  to  the  moun- 
tains at  the  heads  of  the  Platte,  in  search  of  them.  The  rapidly  progressive 
lailure  of  their  principal  and  almost  their  only  means  of  subsistence  has 
created  great  alarm  among  them  ; and  at  this  time  there  are  only  two  modes 
presented  to  them,  by  which  they  see  a good  prospect  for  escaping  starva- 


146 


[ 174  ] 

tion  : one  of  these  is  to  rob  the  settlements  along  the  frontier  of  the  States  ; 
and  the  other  is  to  form  a league  between  the  various  tribes  of  the  Sioux 
nation,  the  Cheyennes,  and  ^Arapahoes,  and  make  war  against  the  Crow 
nation,  in  order  to  take  from  them  their  country,  which  is  now  the  best 
buffalo  country  in  the  west.  This  plan  they  now  have  in  consideration  ; 
and  it  would  probably  be  a war  of  extermination,  as  the  Crows  have  long 
been  advised  of  this  state  of  affairs,  and  say  that  they  are  perfectly  prepared. 
These  are  the  best  warriors  in  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  are  now  allied 
with  the  Snake  Indians;  and  it  is  probable  that  their  combination  would 
extend  itself  to  the  Utahs,  who  have  long  been  engaged  in  war  against  the 
Sioux.  It  is  in  this  section  of  country  that  my  observation  formerly  led 
me  to  recommend  the  establishment  of  a military  post. 

The  farther  course  of  our  narrative  will  give  fuller  and  more  detailed 
information  of  the  present  disposition  of  the  buffalo  in  the  country  we 
visited. 

Among  the  roots  we  obtained  here,  I could  distinguish  only  five  or  six 
different  kinds ; and  the  supply  of  the  Indians  whom  we  met  consisted 
principally  of  yampah,  ( anethum , graveolens ,)  tobacco  root,  ( valeriana , ) 
and  a large  root  of  a species  of  thistle,  ( circium  Virginianum , ) which  now 
is  occasionally  abundant,  and  is  a very  agreeably  flavored  vegetable. 

We  had  been  detained  so  long  at  the  village,  that  in  the  afternoon  we 
made  only  five  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  same  river  after  a day’s  jour- 
ney of  19  miles.  The  Indians  informed  us  that  we  should  reach  the  big 
salt  water  after  having  slept  twice  and  travelling  in  a south  direction.  The 
stream  had  here  entered  a nearly  level  plain  or  valley,  of  good  soil,  eight  or 
ten  miles  broad,  to  which  no  termination  was  to  be  seen,  and  lying  between 
ranges  of  mountains  which,  on  the  right,  were  grassy  and  smooth,  unbro- 
ken by  rock,  and  lower  than  on  the  left,  where  they  were  rocky  and  bald, 
increasing  in  height  to  the  southward.  On  the  creek  were  fringes  of  young 
willows,  older  trees  being  rarely  found  on  the  plains,  where  the  Indians 
burn  the  surface  to  produce  better  grass.  Several  magpies  ( pica  Hudsonica ) 
were  seen  on  the  creek  this  afternoon  ; and  a rattlesnake  was  killed  here, 
the  first  which  had  been  seen  since  leaving  the  eastern  plains.  Our  camp 
to-night  bad  such  a hungry  appearance,  that  I suffered  the  little  cow  to  be 
killed,  and  divided  the  roots  and  berries  among  the  people.  A number  of 
Indians  from  the  village  encamped  near. 

The  weather  the  next  morning  was  clear,  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at 
44°. 5,  and,  continuing  down  the  valley,  in  about  five  miles  we  followed 
the  little  creek  of  our  encampment  to  its  junction  with  a larger  stream, 
called  Roseaux,  or  Reed  river.  Immediately  opposite,  on  the  right,  the 
range  was  gathered  into  its  highest  peak,  sloping  gradually  low,  and  run- 
ning off  to  a point  apparently  some  forty  or  fifty  miles  below.  Between 
this  (now  become  the  valley  stream)  and  the  foot  of  the  mountains,  we 
journeyed  along  a handsome  sloping  level,  which  frequent  springs  from  the 
hills  made  occasionally  miry,  and  halted  to  noon  at  a swampy  spring,  where 
there  were  good  grass  and  abundant  rushes.  Here  the  river  was  forty  feet 
wide,  with  a considerable  current;  and  the  valley  a mile  and  a half  in 
breadth  ; the  soil  being  generally  good,  of  a dark  color,  and  apparently  well 
adapted  to  cultivation.  The  day  had  become  bright  and  pleasant,  with  the 
thermometer  at  71°.  By  observation,  our  latitude  was41°  59'  31",  and  the 
elevation  above  the  sea  4,670  feet.  On  our  left,  thi3  afternoon,  the  range 
at  long  intervals  formed  itself  into  peaks,  appearing  to  terminate,  about 


147 


[ 174  1 

forty  miles  below,  in  a rocky  cape  ; beyond  which,  several  others  were  faint- 
ly visible  ; and  we  were  disappointed  when  at  every  little  rise  we  did  not 
see  the  lake.  Towrards  evening,  our  way  was  somewhat  obstructed  by 
fields  of  artemisia , which  began  to  make  their  appearance  here,  and  we 
encamped  on  the  Roseaux,  the  water  of  which  had  acquired  a decidedly 
salt  taste,  nearly  opposite  to  a canon  gap  in  the  mountains,  through  which 
the  Bear  river  enters  this  valley.  As  we  encamped,  the  night  set  in  dark 
and  cold,  with  heavy  rain  ; and  the  artemisia,  which  was  here  our  only 
wood,  was  so  wet  that  it  would  not  burn.  A poor,  nearly  starved  dog, 
with  a wound  in  his  side  from  a ball,  came  to  the  camp,  and  remained 
with  us  until  the  winter,  when  he  met  a very  unexpected  fate. 

September  1. — The  morning  was  squally  and  cold  ; the  sky  scattered  over 
with  clouds  ; and  the  night  had  been  so  uncomfortable,  that  we  were  not  on 
the  road  until  8 o’clock.  Travelling  between  Roseaux  and  Bear  rivers,  we 
continued  to  descend  the  valley, which  gradually  expanded,  as  we  advanced, 
into  a level  plain  of  good  soil,  about  25  miles  in  breadth,  between  moun- 
tains 3,000  and  4,000  feet  high,  rising  suddenly  to  the  clouds,  which  ait  day 
rested  upon  the  peaks.  These  gleamed  out  in  the  occasional  sunlight,  man- 
tled with  the  snow  which  had  fallen  upon  them,  while  it  rained  on  us  in  the 
valley  below,  of  which  the  elevation  here  was  about  4,500  feet  above  the 
sea.  The  country  before  us  plainly  indicated  that  we  were  approaching 
the  lake,  though,  as  the  ground  where  we  were  travelling  afforded  no  ele- 
vated point,  nothing  of  it  as  yet  could  be  seen  ; and  at  a great  distance  ahead 
were  several  isolated  mountains,  resembling  islands,  which  they  were  after- 
wards found  to  be.  On  this  upper  plain  the  grass  was  every  where  dead  ; 
and  among  the  shrubs  with  which  it  was  almost  exclusively  occupied,  ( arte- 
misia being  the  most  abundant,)  frequently  occurred  handsome  clusters  of 
several  species  of  dieteria  in  bloosn.  Purshia  tridentata  was  among  the 
frequent  shrubs.  Descending  to  the  bottoms  of  Bear  river,  we  foundgood 
grass  for  the  animals,  and  encamped  about  300  yards  above  the  mouth  of 
Roseaux,  which  here  makes  its  junction,  without  communicating  any 
of  its  sidfy  taste  to  the  main  stream,  of  which  the  water  remains  perfectly 
pure.  On  the  river  are  only  willow  thickets,  ( salix  longifolia ,)  and  in  the 
bottoms  the  abundant  plants  are  canes,  solidago,  and  helianthi,  and  along 
the  banks  of  Roseaux  are  fields  of  malva  rotundifolia.  At  sunset  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  54°. 5,  and  the  evening  clear  and  calm  ; but  I deferred 
making  any  use  of  it  until  I o’clock  in  the  morning,  when  l endeavored 
to  obtain  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  ; but  it  was  lost  in  a bank  of 
clouds,  which  also  rendered  our  usual  observations  indifferent. 

Among  the  useful  things  which  formed  a portion  of  our  equipage,  was  an 
India-rubber  boat,  18  feet  long,  made  somewhat  in  the  form  of  a bark  canoe 
of  the  northern  lakes.  The  sides  were  formed  by  two  air-tight  cylinders, 
eighteen  inches  in  diameter,  connected  with  others  forming  the  bow  and 
stern.  To  lessen  the  danger  from  accidents  to  the  boat,  these  were  divided 
into  four  different  compartments,  and  the  interior  space  was  sufficiently 
large  to  contain  five  or  six  persons  and  a considerable  weight  of  baggage. 
The  Roseaux  being  too  deep  to  be  forded,  our  boat  was  filled  with  air,  and 
in  about  one  hour  all  the  equipage  of  the  camp,  carriage  and  gun  included, 
ferried  across.  Thinking  that  perhaps  in  the  course  of  the  day  we  might 
reach  the  outlet  at  the  lake,  I got  into  the  boat  with  Basil  Lajeuoesse,  and 
paddled  down  Bear  river,  intending  at  night  to  rejoin, the  party',  which  in 
the  mean  time  proceeded  on  its  way.  The  river  was  from  sixty  to  one 


148 


£ 174  ] 

hundred  yards  broad,  and  the  water  so  deep,  that  even  on  the  comparatively 
shallow  points  we  could  not  reach  the  bottom  with  15  feet.  On  either  side 
were  alternately  low  bottoms  and  willow  points,  with  an  occasional  high 
prairie  ; and  for  five  or  six  hours  we  followed  slowly  the  winding  course  of 
the  river,  which  crept  along  with  a sluggish  current  among  frequent  detours 
several  miles  around,  sometimes  running  fora  considerable  distance  directly 
up  the  valley.  As  we  were  stealing  quietly  down  the  stream,  trying  in  vain 
to  get  a shot  at  a strange  large  bird  that  was  numerous  among  the  willows, 
but  very  shy,  we  came  unexpectedly  upon  several  families  ot  Root  Diggers, 
who  were  encamped  among  the  rushes  on  the  shore,  and  appeared  very- 
busy  about  several  weirs  or  nets  which  had  been  rudely  made  oi  canes  and 
rushes  for  the  purpose  of  catching  fish.  They  were  very  much  startled  at 
our  appearance,  hut  we  soon  established  an  acquaintance  ; and  finding  that 
they  had  some  roots,  1 promised  to  send  some  men  with  goods  to  trade 
with  them.  They  had  the  usual  very  large  heads,  remarkable  among  the 
Digger  tribe,  with  matted  hair,  and  were  almost  entirely  naked  ; looking 
very  poor  and  miserable,  as  if  their  lives  had  been  spent  in  the  rushes  where 
they  were,  beyond  which  they  seemed  to  have  very  little  knowledge jof  any 
thing.  From  the  few  words  we  could  comprehend,  their  language  was 
that  of  the  Snake  Indians. 

Our  boat  moved  so  heavily,  that  we  had  made  very  little  progress;  and, 
finding  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  overtake  the  camp,  as  soon  as  we  were 
sufficiently  far  below  the  Indians,  we  put  to  the  shore  near  a high  prairie 
bank,  hauled  up  the  boat,  and  cached  our  effects  in  the  willows.  Ascending 
the  bank,  we  found  that  our  desultory  labor  had  brought  us  only  a few  miles 
in  a direct  line  ; and,  going  out  into  the  prairie,  after  a search  we  found  the 
trail  of  the  camp,  which  was  now  nowhere  in  sight,  but  had  followed  the 
general  course  of  the  river  in  a large  circular  sweep  which  it  makes  at  this 
place.  The  sun  was  about  tbiee  hours  high  when  we  found  the  trail  ; and 
as  our  people  had  passed  early  in  the  day,  we  had  the  prospect  of  a vigorous 
walk  before  us.  Immediately  where  we  landed,  the  high  arable  plain  on 
w hich  w e had  been  travelling  for  several  days  past  terminated  in  extensive 
low  flats,  very  generally  occupied  by  salt  marshes,  or  beds  of  shallow  lakes, 
w hence  the  water  had  in  most  places  evaporated,  leaving  their  hard  surface 
encrusted  with  a shining  white  residuum,  and  absolutely  covered  with  very 
small  univalve  shells.  As  we  advanced,  the  whole  country  around  us  as- 
sumed this  appearance  ; and  there  was  no  other  vegetation  than  the  shrubby 
ehenopodiaceous  and  other'apparently  saline  plants,  which  were  confined 
to  the  rising  grounds.  Here  and  there  on  the  river  bank,  which  was  raised 
like  a levee  above  the  flats  through  which  it  ran,  was  a narrow  border  of 
grass  and  short  black-burnt  willows  ; the  stream  being  very  deep  and 
sluggish,  and  sometimes  600  to  800  feet  wide.  After  a rapid  walk  of  about 
15  miles,  we  caught  sight  of  t;he  camp  fires  among  clumps  of  willows  just 
as  the.  sun  had  sunk  behind  the  mountains  on  the  west  side  of  the  val- 
ley, filling  the  clear  sky  with  a golden  yellow7.  These  last  rays,  to  us  so 
piecious,  could  not  have  revealed  a more  welcome  sight.  To  the  traveller 
and  the  hunter,  a camp  fire  in  the  lonely  wilderness  is  always  cheering  ; 
and  to  ourselves,  in  our  present  situation,  after  a hard  march  pi  a region  of 
novelty,  approaching  the  debouches  of  a river,  in  a lake  of  almost  fabulous 
reputation,  it  was  doubly  so.  A plentiful  supper  of  aquatic  birds,  and  the 
interest  of  the  scene,  soon  dissipated  fatigue ; and  1 obtained  during  the 


149  [ 17 1 J 

night  emersions  of  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  satellites  of  Jupiter,  with 
observations  for  time  and  latitude. 

September  3. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a light  air  from  the  north, 
and  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  at  45°. 5.  At  3 in  the  morning,  Basil 
was  sent  back  with  several  men  and  horses  for  the  boat,  which,  in  a direct 
course  aeross  the  flats,  was  not  10  miles  distant ; and  in  the  mean  time  there 
was  a pretty  spot  of  grass  here  for  the  animals.  The  ground  was  so  low’ 
that  we  could  not  get  high  enough  to  see  across  the  river,  on  account  of  the 
willowrs  ; but  we  were  evidently  in  the  vicinity  of  the  lake,  and  the  water 
fowl  made  this  morning  a noise  like  thunder.  A pelican  ( pelecanus  ono- 
crotalm)  wras  killed  as  he  passed  by,  and  many  geese  and  ducks  flew  over 
the  camp.  On  the  dry  salt  marsh  here,  is  scarce  any  other  plant  than 
salicomia  berbacea. 

In  the  afternoon  the  men  returned  with  the  boat,  bringing  with  them  a 
small  quantity  of  roots,  and  some  meat,  which  the  Indians  had  told  them 
was  bear  meat. 

Descending  the  river  for  about  three  miles  in  the  afternoon,  we  found  a 
bar  to  any  further  travelling  in  that  direction — the  stream  being  spread  out 
in  several  branches,  and  covering  the  low  grounds  with  water,  where  the 
miry  nature  of  the  bottom  did  not  permit  any  further  advance.  We  were 
evidently  on  the  border  of  the  lake,  although  the  rushes  and  canes  which 
covered  the  marshes  prevented  any  view  ; and  w’e  accordingly  encamped 
at  the  little  delta  which  forms  the  mouth  of  Bear  river;  a long  arm  of  the 
lake  stretching  up  to  the  north  betwreen  us  and  the  opposite  mountains. 
The  river  w^as  bordered  with  a fringe  of  willows  and  canes,  among  which 
w’ere  interspersed  a fewr  plants  ; and  scattered  about  on  the  marsh  was  a 
species  of  uniola , closely  allied  to  U.  spicata  of  our  sea  coast.  The  w hole 
morass  w’as  animated  with  multitudes  of  w^ater  fowl,  which  appeared  to  be 
very  wild — rising  for  the  space  of  a mile  round  about  at  the  sound  of  a gun, 
with  a noise  like  distant  thunder.  Several  of  the  people  waded  out  into 
the  marshes,  and  we  had  to-night  a delicious  supper  of  ducks,  geese,  and 
plover. 

Although  the  moon  w'as  bright,  the  night  was  otherwise  favorable  ; and 
I obtained  this  evening  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite,  with  the  usual  ob- 
servations. A mean  result,  depending  on  various  observations  made  during 
our  stay  in  the  neighborhood,  places  the  mouth  of  the  river  in  longitude 
112°  19'  30"  w'est  from  Greenwich;  latitude  41°  30'  22";  and,  according 
to  the  barometer,  in  elevation  4,200  feet  above  the  gulf  of  Mexico.  The 
night  was  clear,  with  considerable  dew,  which  I had  remarked  every  night 
since  the  first  of  September.  The  next  morning,  while  we  were  preparing 
to  start,  Carson  rode  into  the  camp  with  flour  and  a few’  other  articles  of 
light  provision,  sufficient  for  two  or  three  days — a scanty  but  very  accepta- 
ble supply.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  had  not  yet  arrived,  and  provisions  wrere  very 
scarce,  and  difficult  to  be  had  at  Fort  Hall,  which  had  been  entirely  ex- 
hausted by  the  necessities  of  the  emigrants.  He  brought  me  also  a lbtter 
from  Mr.  Dwight,  who,  in  company  with  several  emigrants,  had  reached 
that  place  in  advance  of  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  and  was  about  continuing  his 
journey  to  Vancouver. 

Returning  about  five  miles  up  the  river,  wre  were  occupied  until  nearly 
sunset  in  crossing  to  the  left  bank — the  stream,  which  in  the  last  five  or  six 
miles  of  its  course,  is  very  much  narrower  than  above,  being  very  deep  im- 
mediately at  the  banks;  and  we  had  great  difficulty  in  getting  our  animals 


150 


£ 174  ] 

over.  The  people  with  the  baggage  were  easily  crossed  in  the  boat,  and 
we  encamped  on  the  left  bank  where  we  crossed  the  river.  At  sunset  the 
thermometer  was  at  75°,  and  there  was  some  rain  during  the  night,  with  a 
thunder  storm  at  a distance. 

September  5. — Before  us  was  evidently  the  bed  of  the  lake,  being  a great 
salt  marsh,  perfectly  level  and  bare,  whitened  in  places  by  saline  efflo- 
rescences, with  here  and  there  a pool  of  water,  and  having  the  appearance 
of  a very  level  sea  shore  at  low  tide.  Immediately  along  the  river  was  a 
very  narrow  strip  of  vegetation,  consisting  of  willows,  helianthi,  roses, 
flowering  vines,  and  grass  ; bordered  on  the  verge  of  the  great  marsh  by  a 
fringe  of  singular  plants,  which  appear  to  be  a shrubby  saiicornia,  or  a genus 
allied  to  it. 

About  12  miles  to  the  southward  was  one  of  those  isolated  mountains, 
now  appearing  to  be  a kind  of  peninsula  ; and  towards  this  we  accordingly 
directed  our  course,  as  it  probably  afforded  a good  view  of  the  lake  ; but 
the  deepening  mud  as  we  advanced  forced  us  to  return  toward  the  river,  and 
gain  the  higher  ground  at  the  foot  of  the  eastern  mountains.  Here  we  halt- 
ed for  a few  minutes  at  noon,  on  a beautiful  little  stream  of  pure  and  re- 
markably clear  water,  with  a bed  of  rock  in  situ , on  which  was  an  abun- 
dant water  plant  with  a white  blossom.  There  was  good  grass  in  the  bot- 
toms ; and,  amidst  a rather  luxuriant  growth,  its  banks  were  bordered  with 
a large  showy  plant  ( eupatorium  purpureum ,)  which  I here  saw  for  the 
first  time.  We  named  the  stream  Clear  creek. 

We  continued  our  way  along  the  mountain,  having  found  here  a broad 
plainly  beaten  trail,  over  what  was  apparently  the  shore  of  the  lake  in  the 
spring  ; the  ground  being  high  and  firm,  and  the  soil  excellent  and  covered 
with  vegetation,  among  which  a leguminous  plant  (glycyrrhiza  lepidota) 
was  a characteristic  plant.  The  ridge  here  rises  abruptly  to  the  height  of 
about  4,000  feet  ; its  face  being  very  prominently  marked  with  a massive 
stratum  of  rose-colored  granular  quartz,  which  is  evidently  an  altered  sedi- 
mentary rock  ; the  lines  of  deposition  being  very  distinct.  It  is  rocky  and 
steep;  divided  into  several  mountains;  and  the  rain  in  the  valley  appears 
to  be  always  snow  on  their  summits  at  this  season.  Near  a remarkable 
rocky  point  of  the  mountain,  at  a large  spring  of  pure  water,  were  several 
haikberry  trees,  ( celtis ,)  probably  a new  species,  the  berries  still  green  ; 
and  a short  distance  farther,  thickets  of  sumach  ( rhus .) 

On  the  plain  here  I noticed  blackbirds  and  grouse.  In  about  seven 
miles  from  Clear  creek,  the  trail  brought  us  to  a place  at  the  foot  of  the 
mountain  where  there  issued  with  considerable  force  ten  or  twelve  hot 
springs,  highly  impregnated  with  salt.  In  one  of  these,  the  thermometer 
stood  at  136°,  and  in  another, at  132°.5  ; and  the  water,  which  spread  in 
pools  over  the  low  ground,  was  colored  red.* 

* An  analysis  of  the  red  earthy  matter  deposited  in  the  bed  of  the  stream  from 
gives  the  following  result: 

Peroxide  of  iron  --------- 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  - --  --  --  - 

Carbonate  of  lime,  - - - 

Sulphate  of  lime  --------- 

Chloride  of  sodium  ------- 

Silica  and  alumina 

Water  and  loss  --------- 


the  springs, 


33.50 

2.40 

50.43 

2.00 

3.45 

3.00 

5.22 


100.00 


151 


[ 174  ] 

At  this  place  the  trail  we  had  been  following  turned  to  the  left,  apparent- 
ly with  the  view  of  entering  a gorge  in  the  mountain,  from  which  issued 
the  principal  fork  of  a large  and  comparatively  well-timbered  stream,  called 
Weber’s  fork.  We  accordingly  turned  off  towards  the  lake,  and  encamped 
on  this  river,  which  was  100  to  150  feet  wide,  with  high  banks,  and  very 
clear  pure  water,  without  the  slightest  indication  of  salt. 

September  6. — Leaving  the  encampment  early,  we  again  directed  our 
course  for  the  peninsular  butte  across  a low  shrubby  plain,  crossing  in  the 
way  a slough-like  creek  with  miry  banks,  and  wooded  with  thickets  of  thorn 
( cratcegus ) which  were  loaded  with  berries.  This  time  we  reached  the 
butte  without  any  difficulty,  and,  ascending  to  the  summit,  immediately  at 
our  feet  beheld  the  object  of  our  anxious  search — the  waters  of  the  Inland 
Sea,  stretching  in  still  and  solitary  grandeur  far  beyond  the  limit  of  our 
vision.  It  was  one  of  the  great  points  of  the  exploration  ; and  as  we  looked 
eagerly  over  the  lake  in  the  first  emotions  of  excited  pleasure,  I am  doubtful 
if  the  followers  of  Balboa  felt  more  enthusiasm  when,  from  the  heights  of 
the  Andes,  they  saw7  for  the  first  time  the  great  Western  ocean.  It  was 
certainly  a magnificent  object,  and  a noble  terminus  to  this  part  of  our  ex- 
pedition ; and  to  travellers  so  long  shut  up  among  mountain  ranges,  a sud- 
den view  over  the  expanse  of  silent  waters  had  in  it  something  sublime. 
Several  large  islands  raised  their  high  rocky  heads  out  of  the  waves ; but 
whether  or  not  they  w'ere  timbered,  was  still  left  to  our  imagination,  as  the 
distance  was  too  great  to  determine  if  the  dark  hues  upon  them  were  wood- 
land or  naked  rock.  During  the  day  the  clouds  had  been  gathering  black 
over  the  mountains  to  the  westward,  and,  while  we  were  looking,  a storm 
burst  dow’n  with  sudden  fury  upon  the  lake,  and  entirely  hid  the  islands 
from  our  view.  So  far  as  we  could  see,  along  the  shores  there,  was  not  a 
solitary  tree,  and  but  little  appearance  of  grass ; and  on  Weber’s  fork,  a 
few  miles  below  our  last  encampment,  the  timber  was  gathered  into  groves, 
and  then  disappeared  entirely.  As  this  appeared  to  be  the  nearest  point  to 
the  lake  where  a suitable  camp  could  be  found,  we  directed  our  course  to 
one  of  the  groves,  where  we  found  a handsome  encampment,  with  good 
grass  and  an  abundance  of  rushes,  ( equisetumhyemale .)  At  sunset,  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  55°;  the  evening  clear  and  calm,  with  some  cumuli. 

September  7. — The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  a temperature 
at  sunrise  of  39°.5.  The  day  was  spent  in  active  preparation  for  our  in- 
tended voyage  on  the  lake.  On  the  edge  of  the  stream  a favorable  spot 
was  selected  in  a grove,  and,  felling  the  timber,  we  made  a strong  coral , or 
horse  pen,  for  the  animals,  and  a little  fort  for  the  people  who  were  to  re- 
main. We  were  now  probably  in  the  country  of  the  Utah  Indians,  though 
none  reside  upon  the  lake.  The  India-rubber  boat  was  repaired  with  pre- 
pared cloth  and  gum,  and  filled  with  air,  in  readiness  for  the  next  day. 

The  provisions  which  Carson  had  brought  with  him  being  nowexhausted, 
and  our  stock  reduced  to  a small  quantity  of  roots,  I determined  to  retain 
with  me  only  a sufficient  number  of  men  for  the  execution  of  our  design  ; 
and  accordingly  seven  were^sent  back  to  Fort  Hall,  under  the  guidance 
of  Francois  Lajeunesse,  who,  having  been  for  many  years  a trapper  in  the 
country,  was  considered  an  experienced  mountaineer.  Though  they  were 
provided  with  good  horses,  and  the  road  was  a remarkably  plain  one  of 
only  four  days’  journey  for  a horseman,  they  became  bewildered,  (as  we 
afterwards  learned,)  and,  losing  their  way,  w'andered  about  the  country  in 
parties  of  one  or  twTo,  reaching  the  fort  about  a week  afterwards.  Some 


152 


C 174  ] 

straggled  in  of  themselves,  and  the  others  were  brought  in  by  Indians  wha 
had  picked  them  up  on  Snake  river,  about  sixty  miles  below  the  fort,  trav- 
elling along  the  emigrant  road  in  full  march  for  the  Lower  Columbia.  The 
leader  of  this  adventurous  party  was  Francois. 

Hourly  barometrical  observations  were  made  during  the  day,  and,  after 
departuie  of  the  party  for  Fort  Hall,  we  occupied  ourselves  in  continuing 
our  little  preparations,  and  in  becoming  acquainted  with  the  country  in 
the  vicinity.  The  bottoms  along  the  river  were  timbered  with  several 
kinds  of  willow,  hawthorn,  and  fine  cottonwood  trees  (populus  canadensis) 
with  remarkably  large  leaves,  and  sixty  feet  in  height  by  measurement. 

We  formed  now  but  a small  family.  With  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself,  Car- 
son, Bernier,  and  Basil  Lajeunesse,  had  been  selected  for  the  boat  expedi- 
tion— the  first  ever  attempted  on  this  interior  sea  ; and  Badeau,  with  De- 
rosier,  and  Jacob,  ( the  colored  man, ) were  to  be  left  in  charge  of  the  camp. 
We  were  favored  with  most  delightful  weather.  To-night  there  was  a 
brilliant  sunset  of  golden  orange  and  green,  which  left  the  western  sky 
clear  and  beautifully  pure ; but  clouds  in  the  east  made  me  lose  an  occupa- 
tion. The  summer  frogs  were  singing  around  us,  and  the  evening  was 
very  pleasant,  with  a temperature  of  60° — a night  of  a more  southern  au- 
tumn. For  our  supper  we  had  yampah , the  most  agreeably  flavored  of  the 
roots,  seasoned  by  a small  fat  duck,  which  had  come  in  the  way  of  Jacob’s 
rifle.  Around  our  fire  to-night  were  many  speculations  on  what  to-morrowr 
would  bring  forth,  and  in  our  busy  conjectures  we  fancied  that  we  should 
find  every  one  of  the  large  islands  a tangled  wilderness  of  trees  and  shrub- 
bery, teeming  with  game  of  every  description  that  the  neighboring  region 
afforded,  and  which  the  foot  of  a white  man  or  Indian  had  never  violated. 
Frequently,  during  the  day,  clouds  had  rested  on  the  summits  of  their  lofty 
mountains,  and  we  believed  that  we  should  find  clear  streams  and  springs 
of  fresh  water;  and  we  indulged  in  anticipations  of  the  luxurious  repasts 
with  which  we  were  to  indemnify  ourselves  for  past  privations.  Neither, 
in  our  discussions,  were  the  whirlpool  and  other  mysterious  dangers  forgot- 
ten, which  Indian  and  hunter’s  stories  attributed  to  this  unexplored  lake. 
The  men  had  discovered  that,  instead  of  being  strongly  sewed  ( like  that  of 
the  preceding  year,  which  had  so  triumphantly  rode  the  canons  of  the  Up- 
per Great  Platte,)  our  present  boat  wrasonly  pasted  together  in  a very  inse- 
cure manner,  the  maker  having  been  allowed  so  little  time  in  the  construc- 
tion, that  he  w'as  obliged  to  crowd  the  labor  of  two  months  into  several 
days.  The  insecurity  of  the  boat  was  sensibly  felt  by  us  ; and,  mingled 
with  the  enthusiasm  and  excitement  that  we  all  felt  at  the  prospect  of  an 
undertaking  w hich  had  never  before  been  accomplished,  was  a certain  im- 
pression of  danger,  sufficient  to  give  a serious  character  toour  conversation. 
The  momentary  view  which  had  been  had  of  the  lake  the  day  before,  its 
greaf  extent  and  rugged  islands,  dimly  seen  amidst  the  dark  waters  in  the 
obscurity  of  the  sudden  storm,  were  well  calculated  to  heighten  the  idea 
of  undefined  danger  with  which  the  lake  wras  generally  associated. 

September  8. — A calm,  clear  day,  w ith  ra  sunrise  temperature  of  41°. 
In  view  of  our  present  enterprise,  a part  of  the  equipment  of  the  boat  had 
been  made  to  consist  in  three  air  tight  bags,  about  three  feet  long,  and  ca- 
pable each  of  containing  five  gallons.  These  had  been  filled  with  water 
the  night  before,  arid  were  now'  placed  in  the  boat,  with  our  blankets  and 
instruments,  consisting  of  a sextant,  telescope,  spy  glass,  thermometer,  and 
barometer. 


153 


[ *74  j 

We  left  the  camp  at  sunrise,  and  had  a very  pleasant  voyage  down  the 
river,  in  which  there  was  generally  eight  or  ten  feet  of  water,  deepening  as 
we  neared  the  mouth  in  the  latter  part  of  the  day.  In  the  course  of  the 
morning  we  discovered  that  two  of  the  cylinders  leaked  so  much  as  to  re- 
quire one  man  constantly  at  the  bellows,  to  keep  them  sufficiently  full  of 
air  to  support  the  boat.  Although  we  had  made  a very  early  start,  we 
loitered  so  much  on  the  way — stopping  every  now  and  then,  and  floating 
silently  along,  to  get  a shot  at  a goose  or  a duck — that  it  was  late  in  the  day 
when  we  reached  the  outlet.  The  river  here  divided  into  several  branches, 
filled  with  fluvials,  and  so  very  shallow7  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we 
could  get  the  boat  along,  being  obliged  to  get  out  and  wade.  We  encamped 
on  a low7  point  among  rushes  and  young  willows,  where  there  was  a quan- 
tity of  drift  wood,  which  served  for  our  fires.  The  evening  was  mild  and 
clear  ; we  made  a pleasant  bed  of  the  young  willows  ; and  geese  and  ducks 
enough  had  been  killed  for  an  abundant  supper  at  night,  and  for  breakfast 
the  next  morning.  The  stillness  of  the  night  was  enlivened  by  millions  of 
water  fowl.  Latitude  (by  observation)  41°  IT  26";  and  longitude  112° 
11'  30". 

September  9. — The  day  w as  clear  and  calm  ; the  thermometer  at  sunrise 
at  49°.  As  is  usual  with  the  trappers  on  the  eve  of  any  enterprise,  our  peo- 
ple had  made  dreams,  and  theirs  happened  to  be  a bad  one — one  which  al- 
ways preceded  evil — and  consequently  they  looked  very  gloomy  this  morn- 
ing ; but  we  hurried  through  our  breakfast,  in  order  to  make  an  early  start, 
and  have  all  the  day  before  us  for  our  adventure.  The  channel  in  a short 
distance  became  so  shallow  that  our  navigation  was  at  an  end,  being  merely 
a sheet  of  soft  mud,  w ith  a few  inches  of  w ater,  and  sometimes  none  at  all, 
forming  the  low-water  shore  of  the  lake.  All  this  place  was  absolutely 
covered  w7ith  flocks  of  screaming  plover.  We  took  off  our  clothes,  and, 
getting  overboard,  commenced  dragging  the  boat — making,  by  this  opera- 
tion, a very  curious  trail,  and  a very  disagreeable  smell  in  stirring  up  the 
mud,  as  we  sank  above  the  knee  at  every  step.  The  water  here  was  still 
fresh,  w ith  only  ail  insipid  and  disagreeable  taste,  probably  derived  from  the 
bed  of  fetid  mud.  After  proceeding  in  this  way  about  a mile,  we  came  to 
a small  black  ridge  on  the  bottom,  beyond  which  the  w'ater  became  sud- 
denly salt,  beginning  gradually  to  deepen,  and  the  bottom  was  sandy  and 
firm.  It  was  a remarkable  division,  separating  the  fresh  water  of  the  rivers 
from  the  briny  water  of  the  lake,  which  was  entirely  saturated  with  com- 
mon salt.  Pushing  our  little  vessel  across  the  narrow  boundary,  we  sprang 
on  board,  and  at  length  were  afloat  on  the  waters  of  the  unknown  sea. 

We  did  not  steer  for  the  mountainous  islands,  but  directed  our  course  to- 
wards a lower  one,  which  it  had  been  decided  we  should  first  visit,  the 
summit  of  w hich  was  formed  like  the  crater  at  the  upper  end  of  Bear  river 
valley.  So  long  as  we  could  touch  the  bottom  with  our  paddles,  we  were 
very  gay  ; but  gradually,  as  the  water  deepened,  we  became  more  still  in 
our  frail  batteau  of  gum  cloth  distended  with  air,  and  with  pasted  seams. 
Although  the  day  was  very  calm,  there  was  a considerable  swell  on  the 
lake  ; and  there  were  white  patches  of  foam  on  the  surface,  which  were 
slowly  moving  to  the  southward,  indicating  the  set  of  a current  in  that  di- 
rection, and  recalling  the  recollection  of  the  whirlpool  stories.  The  wrater 
continued  to  deepen  as  we  advanced  ; the  lake  becoming  almost  transpa- 
rently clear,  of  an  extremely  beautiful  bright  green  color;  and  the  spray  > 
which  was  thrown  into  the  boat  and  over  our  clothes,  was  directly  coil- 


154 


L 174  ] 

verted  into  a crust  of  common  salt,  which  covered  also  our  hands  and  arms. 
u Captain,”  said  Carson,  who  for  some  time  had  been  looking  suspiciously 
at  some  whitening  appearances  outside  the  nearest  islands,  “ what  are  those 
yonder  ? — won’t  you  just  take  a look  with  the  glass  ?’7  We  ceased  paddling 
for  a moment,  and  found  them  to  be  the  caps  of  the  waves  that  were  begin- 
ning to  break  under  the  force  of  a strong  breeze  that  was  coming  up  the 
lake.  The  form  of  the  boat  seemed  to  be  an  admirable  one,  and  it  rode  on 
the  waves  like  a water  bird  ; but,  at  the  same  time,  it  was  extremely  slow  in 
its  progress.  When  we  were  a little  more  than  half  way  across  the  reach, 
two  of  the  divisions  between  the  cylinders  gave  way,  and  it  required  the 
constant  use  of  the  bellows  to  keep  in  a sufficient  quantity  of  air.  For  a 
long  time  we  scarcely  seemed  to  approach  our  island,  but  gradually  we 
worked  across  the  rougher  sea  of  the  open  channel,  into  the  smoother  water 
under  the  lee  of  the  island  ; and  began  to  discover  that  what  we  took  for 
a lgng  row  of  pelicans,  ranged  on  the  beach,  were  only  low  cliffs  whitened 
with  salt  by  the  spray  of  the  waves  ; and  about  noon  we  reached  the  shore, 
the  transparency  of  the  water  enabling  us  to  see  the  bottom  at  a consider- 
able depth. 

It  was  a handsome  broad  beach  where  we  landed,  behind  which  the  hill, 
into  which  the  island  was  gathered,  rose  somewhat  abruptly  ; and  a point 
of  rock  at  one  end  enclosed  it  in  a sheltering  way  ; and  as  there  was  an 
abundance  of  drift  wood  along  the  shore,  it  offered  us  a pleasant  encamp- 
ment. We  did  not  suffer  our  fragile  boat  to  touch  the  sharp  rocks;  but, 
getting  overboard,  discharged  the  baggage,  and,  lifting  it  gently  out  of  the 
water,  carried  it  to  the  upper  part  of  the  beach,  which  was  composed  of 
very  small  fragments  of  rock. 

Among  the  successive  banks  of  the  beach,  formed  by  the  action  of  the 
waves,  our  attention,  as  we  approached  the  island,  had  been  attracted  by 
one  10  to  20  feet  in  breadth,  of  a dark-brown  color.  Being  more  closely 
examined,  this  was  found  to  be  composed,  to  the  depth  of  seven  or  eight 
and  twelve  inches,  entirely  of  the  larva  of  insects,  or,  in  common  language, 
of  the  skins  of  worms,  about  the  size  of  a grain  of  oats,  which  had  been 
washed  up  by  the  waters  of  the  lake. 

Alludingto  this  subject  some  monthsafterwards,  when  travelling  through 
a more  southern  portion  of  this  region,  in  company  with  Mr.  Joseph  Walker, 
an  old  hunter,  1 was  informed  by  him,  that,  wandering  with  a party  of  men 
in  a mountain  country  east  of  the  great  Californian  range,  he  surprised  a 
party  of  several  Indian  families  encamped  near  a small  salt  lake,  who  aban- 
doned their  lodges  at  his  approach,  leaving  every  thing  behind  them.  Be- 
ing in  a starving  condition,  they  were  delighted  to  find  in  the  abandoned 
lodges  a number  of  skin  bags,  containing  a quantity  of  what  appeared  to  be 
fish,  dried  and  pounded.  On  this  they  made  a hearty  supper;  and  were 
gathering  around  an  abundantbreakfastthe  next  morning,  when  Mr.  Walker 
discovered  that  it  was  with  these,  ora  similar  worm,  that  the  bags  had  been 
filled.  The  stomachs  of  the  stout  trappers  were  not  proof  against  their  pre- 
judices, and  the  repulsive  food  was  suddenly  rejected.  Mr.  Walker  had 
further  opportunities  of  seeing  these  worms  used  as  an  article  of  food  ; and 
I am  inclined  to  think  they  are  the  same  as  those  we  saw,  and  appear  to  be 
a product  of  the  salt  lakes.  It  may  be  well  to  recall  to  your  mind  that  Mr. 
Walker  was  associated  with  Captain  Bonneville  in  his  expedition  to  the 
Rocky  mountains;  and  has  since  that  time  remained  in  the  country,  gen- 
erally residing  in  some  one  of  the  Snake  villages,  when  not  engaged  in  one 


The  GREAT  SALT  LAKE 


SCALE 


1:  1000000. 


155 


[ 1^4  ] 

of  his  numerous  trapping  expeditions,  in  which  he  is  celebrated  as  one  of 
the  best  and  bravest  leaders  who  have  ever  been  in  the  country. 

The  cliffs  and  masses  of  rock  along  the  shore  were  whitened  by  an  in- 
crustation of  salt  where  the  waves  dashed  up  against  them  ; and  the  evap- 
orating water,  which  had  been  left  in  holes  and  hollows  on  the  surface  of 
the  rocks,  was  covered  with  a crust  of  salt  about  one-eighth  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  It  appeared  strange  that,  in  the  midst  of  this  grand  reservoir,  one 
of  our  greatest  wants  lately  had  been  salt.  Exposed  to  be  more  perfectly 
dried  in  the  sun,  this  became  very  white  and  fine,  having  the  usual  flavor 
of  very  excellent  common  salt,  without  any  foreign  taste  ; but  only  a little 
was  collected  for  piesent  use,  as  there  was  in  it  a number  of  small  black 
insects. 

Carrying  with  us  the  barometer  and  other  instruments,  in  the  afternoon 
we  ascended  to  the  highest  point  of  the  island — a bare  rocky  peak,  800  feet 
above  the  lake.  Standing  on  the  summit,  we  enjoyed  an  extended  view  of 
the  lake,  enclosed  in  a basin  of  rugged  mountains,  which  sometimes  left 
marshy  flats  and  extensive  bottoms  between  them  and  the  shore,  and  in  other 
places  came  directly  down  into  the  water  with  bold  and  precipitous  bluffs. 
Following  with  our  glasses  the  irregular  shores,  we  searched  for  some  in- 
dications of  a communication  with  other  bodies  of  water,  or  the  entrance  of 
other  rivers  ; but  the  distance  was  so  great  that  we  could  make  out  nothing 
with  certainty.  To  the  southward,  several  peninsular  mountains,  3,000  or 
4,000  feet  high,  entered  the  lake,  appearing,  so  far  as  the  distance  and  our 
position  enabled  us  to  determine,  to  be  connected  by  flats  and  low  ridges 
with  the  mountains  in  the  rear.  Although  these  are  probably  the  islands 
usually  indicated  on  maps  of  this  region  as  entirely  detached  from  the  shore, 
we  have  preferred  to  represent  them,  in  the  small  map  on  the  precedingpage, 
precisely  as  we  were  enabled  to  sketch  them  on  the  ground,  leaving  their 
more  complete  delineation  for  a future  survey.  The  sketch,  of  which  the 
scale  is  nearly  sixteen  miles  to  an  inch,  is  introduced  only  to  show  clearly 
the  extent  of  our  operations,  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  were  made  when 
the  waters  were  at  their  lowest  stage.  At  the  season  of  high  waters  in  the 
spring,  it  is  probable  that  all  the  marshes  and  low  grounds  are  overflowed, 
and  the  surface  of  the  lake  considerably  greater.  In  several  places  ( which 
will  be  indicated  to  you  in  the  sketch,  by  the  absence  of  the  bordering  moun- 
tains) the  view  was  of  unlimited  extent — here  and  there  a rocky  islet  ap- 
pearing above  the  water  at  a great  distance  ; and  beyond,  every  thing  was 
vague  and  undefined.  As  we  looked  over  the  vast  expanse  of  water  spread 
out  beneath  us,  and  strained  our  eyes  along  the  silent  shores  over  which 
hung  so  much  doubt  and  uncertainty,  and  which  were  so  full  of  interest  to 
us,  I could  hardly  repress  the  almost  irresistible  desire  to  continue  our  ex- 
ploration ; but  the  lengthening  snow  on  the  mountains  was  a plain  indica- 
tion of  the  advancing  season,  and  our  frail  linen  boat  appeared  so  insecure 
that  I was  unwilling  to  trust  our  lives  to  the  uncertainties  of  the  lake.  I 
therefore  unwillingly  resolved  to  terminate  our  survey  here,  and  remain  sat- 
isfied for  the  preseht  with  what  we  had  been  able  to  add  to  the  unknown 
geography  of  the  region.  We  felt  pleasure  also  in  remembering  that  we 
were  the  first  who,  in  the  traditionary  annals  of  the  country,  had  visited  the 
islands,  and  broken,  with  the  cheerful  sound  of  human  voices,  the  long  sol- 
itude of  the  place.  From  the  point  where  we  were  standing,  the  ground 
fell  off  on  every  side  to  the  water,  giving  us  a perfect  view  of  the  island, 
which  is  twelve  or  thirteen  miles  in  circumference,  being  simply  a rocky 


156 


[ 174  ] 

hill,  on  which  there  is  neither  water  nor  trees  of  any  kind;  although  the 
Fremontia  vermicular  is , which  was  in  great  abundance,  might  easily  be 
mistaken  for  timber  at  a distance.  The  plant  seemed  here  to  delight  in  a 
congenial  air,  growing  in  extraordinary  luxuriance  seven  to  eight  feet  high, 
and  was  very  abundant  on  the  upper  parts  of  the  island,  where  it  was  al- 
most the  only  plant.  This  is  eminently  a saline  shrub;  its  leaves  have  a 
very  salt  taste  ; and  it  luxuriates  in  saline  soils,  where  it  is  usually  a char- 
acteristic. It  is  widely  diffused  over  all  this  country.  A chenopodiaceous 
shrub,  which  is  a new  species  of  obioive,  (0.  rigida,  Torr.  fy  Frem .,)  was 
equally  characteristic  of  the  lower  parts  of  the  island.  These  two  are  the 
striking  plants  on  the  island,  and  belong  to  a class  of  plants  which  form  a 
prominent  feature  in  the  vegetation  of  this  country.  On  the  lower  parts  of 
the  island,  also,  a prickly  pear  of  very  large  size  was  frequent.  On  the  shore, 
near  the  water,  was  a woolly  species  o H phaca ; and  a new  species  of  um- 
belliferous plant  ( leptotcemia ) was  scattered  about  in  very  considerable 
abundance.  These  constituted  all  the  vegetation  that  now  appeared  upon 
the  island. 

I accidentally  left  on  the  summit  the  brass  cover  to  the  object  end  of  my 
spy  glass  ; and  as  it  will  probably  remain  there  undisturbed  by  Indians,  it 
will  furnish  matter  of  speculation  to  some  futuie  traveller.  In  our  excur- 
sions about  the  island,  we  did  not  meet  with  any  kind  of  animal ; a mag- 
pie, and  another  larger  bird,  probably  attracted  by  the  smoke  of  our  fire, 
paid  us  a visit  from  the  shore,  and  were  the  only  living  things  seen  during 
our  stay.  The  rock  constituting  the  cliffs  along  the  shore  where  we  were 
encamped,  is  a talcous  rock,  or  steatite,  with  brown  spar. 

At  sunset,  the  temperature  was  70°.  We  had  arrived  just  in  time  to  ob- 
tain a meridian  altitude  of  the  sun,  and  other  observations  were  obtained 
this  evening,  which  place  our  camp  in  latitude  41°  10'  42",  and  longitude 
112°  21'  05"  from  Greenwich.  From  a discussion  of  the  barometrical  ob- 
servations made  during  our  stay  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  we  have  adopted 
4,200  feet  for  its  elevation  above  the  gulf  of  Mexico.  In  the  first  disap- 
pointment we  felt  from  the  dissipation  of  our  dream  of  the  fertile  islands,  I 
called  this  Disappointment,  island. 

Out  of  the  diiftwood,we  made  ourselves  pleasant  little  lodges,  open  to 
the  water,  and,  after  having  kindled  large  fires  to  excite  the  wonder  of  any 
straggling  savage  on  the  lake  shores,  lay  down,  for  the  first  time  in  a long 
journey,  in  perfect  security;  no  one  thinking  about  his  arms.  The  even- 
ing was  extremely  bright  and  pleasant ; but  the  wind  rose  during  the  night, 
and  the  waves  began  to  break  heavily  on  the  shore,  making  our  island 
tremble.  1 had  not  expected  in  our  inland  journey  to  hear  the  roar  of  an 
ocean  surf;  and  the  strangeness  of  our  situation,  and  the  excitement  we 
felt  in  the  associated  interests  of  the  place,  made  this  one  of  the  most  in- 
teresting nights  I remember  during  our  long  expedition. 

In  the  morning,  the  surf  was  breaking  heavily  on  the  shore,  and  we 
were  up  early.  The  lake  was  dark  and  agitated,  and  we  hurried  through 
our  scanty  breakfast,  and  embarked — having  first  filled  one  of  the  buckets 
with  water  from  the  lake,  of  which  it  was  intended  to  make  salt.  The 
sun  had  risen  by  the  time  we  were  ready  to  start;  and  it  was  blowing  a 
strong  gale  of  wind,  almost  directly  off  the  shore,  and  raising  a consider- 
able sea,  in  wdiich  our  boat  strained  very  much.  It  roughened  as  we  got 
away  from  the  island,  and  it  required  all  the  efforts  of  the  men  to  make 
any  head  against  the  wind  and  sea;  the  gale  rising  with  the  sun,  and  there 


157 


[ 174  ] 

was  danger  of  being  blown  into  one  of  the  open  reaches  beyond  the  island. 
At  the  distance  of  half  a mile  from  the  beach,  the  depth  of  water  was  16 
feet,  with  a clay  bottom  ; but,  as  the  working  of  the  boat  was  very  severe 
labor,  and  during  the  operation  of  rounding  it  was  necessary  to  cease  pad- 
dling,-during  which  the  boat  lost  considerable  way,  I was  unwilling  to  dis- 
courage the  men,  and  reluctantly  gave  up  my  intention  of  ascertaining  the 
depth,  and  the  character  of  the  bed.  There  was  a general  shout  in  the 
boat  when  we  found  ourselves  in  one  fathom,  and  we  soon  after  landed  on 
a low  point  of  mud,  immediately  under  the  butte  of  the  peninsula,  w7here 
we  unloaded  the  boat,  and  carried  the  baggage  about  a quarter  of  a mile  to 
firmer  ground.  We  arrived  just  in  time  for  meridian  observation,  and 
carried  the  barometer  to  the  summit  of  the  butte,  which  is  500  feet  above 
the  lake.  Mr.  Preuss  set  off  on  foot  for  the  camp,  which  was  about  nine 
miles  distant;  Basil  accompanying  him,  to  bring  back  horses  for  the  boat 
and  baggage. 

The  rude-looking  shelter  we  raised  on  the  shore,  our  scattered  baggage 
and  boat  lying  on  the  beach,  made  quite  a picture  ; and  we  called  this  the 
Fisherman’s  camp.  Lynosiris  graveolens , and  another  new7  species  of 
obione,  (O.  confertifolia — Torr.  <§/•  Frem .,)  were  growing  on  the  low 
grounds,  with  interspersed  spots  of  an  unwholesome  salt  grass,  on  a saline 
clay  soil,  with  a few  other  plants. 

The  horses  arrived  late  in  the  afternoon,  by  which  time  the  gale  had 
increased  to  such  a height  that  a man  could  scarcely  stand  before  it;  and 
we  were  obliged  to  pack  our  baggage  hastily,  as  the  rising  w7ater  of  the 
lake  had  already  reached  the  point  where  we  were  halted.  Looking  back 
as  we  rode  off,  we  found  the  place  of  recent  encampment  entirely  covered. 
The  low  plain  through  which  we  rode  to  the  camp  w7as  covered  with  a 
compact  growth  of  shrubs  of  extraordinary  size  and  luxuriance.  The  soil 
was  sandy  and  saline  ; flat  places,  resembling  the  beds  of  ponds,  that  w ere 
bare  of  vegetation,  and  covered  with  a powdery  white  salts,  being  inter- 
spersed among  the  shrubs.  Artemisia  tridentata  w’as  very  abundant,  but 
the  plants  were  principally  saline  ; a large  and  vigorous  chenopodiaceous 
shrub,  five  to  eight  feet  high,  being  characteristic,  with  Fremontia  vermicu- 
, laris,  and  a shrubby  plant  which  seems  to  be  a new  salicornia.  YVe  reached 
the  camp  in  time  to  escape  a thunder  storm  which  blackened  the  sky,  and 
were  received  with  a discharge  of  the  howitzer  by  the  people,  who,  having 
been  unable  to  see  any  thing  of  us  on  the  lake,  had  begun  to  feel  some 
uneasiness. 

September  11. — To-day  we  remained  at  this  camp,  in  order  to  obtain 
some  further  observations,  and  to  boil  down  the  water  which  had  been 
brought  from  the  lake,  for  a supply  of  salt.  Roughly  evaporated  over  the 
fire,  the  five  gallons  of  water  yielded  fourteen  pints  of  very  fine-grained 
and  very  white  salt,  of  which  the  whole  lake  maybe  regarded  as  a saturat- 
ed solution.  A portion  of  the  salt  thus  obtained  has  been  subjected  to 
analysis — giving,  in  100  parts,  the  following  proportions  : 

Analysis  of  the  salt. 

Chloride  of  sodium,  (common  salt)  - 97.80 

Chloride  of  calcium  - - - - - 0.61 

Cloride  of  magnesium  - - - - - 0.24 


158 


[ 174  ] 

Sulphate  of  soda  - 0.23 

Sulphate  of  lime  - - - - - - - 1.12 


100.00 


Glancing  your  eye  along  the  map,  you  will  see  a small  stream  entering 
the  Utah  lake , south  of  the  Spanish  fork,  and  the  first  waters  of  that  lake 
which  our  road  of  1844  crosses  in  coming  up  from  the  southward.  When 
1 was  on  this  stream  with  Mr.  Walker  in  that  year,  he  informed  me  that  on 
the  upper  part  of  the  river  are  immense  beds  of  rock  salt  of  very  great  thick- 
ness, which  he  had  frequently  visited.  Farther  to  the  southward,  the  rivers 
which  are  affluent  to  the  Colorado,  such  as  the  Rio  Virgen,  and  Gila  river, 
near  their  mouths,  are  impregnated  with  salt  by  the  cliffs  of  rock  salt  be- 
tween which  they  pass.  These  mines  occur  in  the  same  ridge  in  which, 
about  120  miles  to  the  northward,  and  subsequently  in  their  more  immediate 
neighborhood,  we  discovered  the  fossils  belonging  to  the  oolitic  period,  and 
they  are  probably  connected  with  that  formation,  and  are  the  depasite  from 
which  the  Great  Lake  obtains  its  salt.  Had  we  remained  longer,  we  should 
have  found  them  in  its  bed,  and  in  the  mountains  around  its  shores. 

By  observatidn,  the  latitude  of  this  camp  is  41°  15'  50",  and  longitude 
112^  06'  43". 

The  obseivations  made  during  our  stay  give  for  the  rate  of  the  chro- 
nometer 31  ".72,  corresponding  almost  exactly  with  the  rate  obtained 
at  St.  Vrain’s  fort.  Barometrical  obseivations  were  made  hourly  during^ 
the  day.  This  morning  we  breakfasted  on  yampah,  and  had  only  kamas 
for  supper;  but  a cup  of  good  coffee  still  distinguished  us  from  our  Digger 
acquaintances. 

September  12. — The  morning  was  clear  and  calm,  with  a temperature 
at  sunrise  of  32°.  We  resumed  our  journey  late  in  the  day,  returning  by 
nearly  the  same  route  which  we  had  travelled  in  coming  to  the  lake  ; and, 
avoiding  the  passage  of  Hawthorn  creek,  struck  the  hills  a little  below  the 
hot  salt  springs.  The  flat  plain  we  had  here  passed  over  consisted  alter- 
nately of  tolerably  good  sandy  soil  and  of  saline  plats.  We  encamped 
early  on  Clear  creek,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  ridge  ; one  of  the  peaks  of 
which  we  ascertained  by  measurement  to  be  4,210  feet  above  the  lake,  or 
about  8,400  feet  above  the  sea.  Behind  these  front  peaks  the  ridge  rises 
towards  the  Bear  river  mountains,  which  are  probably  as  high  as  the  Wind 
river  chain.  This  creek  is  here  unusually  well  timbered  with  a variety  of 
trees.  Among  them  were  birch  (betula,)  the  narrow-leaved  poplar  ( populus 
angustifolia ,)  several  kinds  of  willow  ( snlix , ) hawthorn  ( cratcegus , ) al- 
der ( alnus  viridis ,)  and  cerasus , with  an  oak  allied  to  quercus  albay  but 
very  distinct  from  that  or  any  other  species  in  the  United  States. 

We  had  to-night  a supper  of  sea  gulls,  which  Carson  killed  near  the  lake* 
Although  cool,  the  thermometer  standing  at  47°,  musquitoes  were  sufficient- 
ly numerous  to  be  troublesome  this  evening. 

September  1 3. — Continuing  up  the  river  valley,  we  crossed  several  small 
streams;  the  mountains  on  the  right  appearing  to  consist  of  the  blue  lime- 
stone, which  we  had  observed  in  the  same  ridge  to  the  northward,  alternat- 
ing here  with  a.granular  quartz  already  mentioned  One  of  these  streams, 
which  forms  a smaller  lake  near  the  river,  was  broken  up  into  several  chan- 
nels ; and  the  irrigated  bottom  of  fertile  soil  was  covered  with  innumerable 
flowers,  among  which  were  purple  fields  of  eupatorium purpureum,  with 


159 


[ 174  J 

helianthi,  a handsome  solidago  (S.  canadensis ,)  and  a variety  of  other 
plants  in  bloom.  Continuing  along  the  foot  of  the  hills,  in  the  afternoon 
we  found  five  or  six  hot  springs  gushing  out  together,  beneath  a conglome- 
rate, consisting  principally  of  fragments  of  a grayish-blue  limestone,  efflor- 
escing a salt  upon  the  surface.  The  temperature  of  these  springs  was  134%, 
and  the  rocks  in  the  bed  were  colored  with  a red  deposite,  and  there  was 
common  salt  crystallized  on  the  margin.  There  was  also  a white  incrust- 
ation upon  leaves  and  roots,  consisting  principally  of  carbonate  of  lime. 
There  were  rushes  seen  along  the  road  this  afternoon,  and  the  soil  under 
the  hills  was  very  black,  and  apparently  very  good ; but  at  this  time  the 
grass  is  entirely  dried  up.  We  encamped  on  Bear  river,  immediately  below 
a cut-off,  the  canon  by  which  the  river  enters  this  valley  bearing  north  by 
compass.  The  night  was  mild,  with  a very  clear  sky  ; and  I obtained  a 
very  excellent  observation  of  an  occultation  of  Tau.1  Arietis,  withotherob- 
servations.  Both  immersion  and  emersion  of  the  star  were  observed  ; but* 
as  our  observations  have  shown,  the  phase  at  the  bright  limb  generally  gives 
incorrect  longitudes,  and  we  have  adopted  the  result  obtained  from  the 
emersion  at  the  dark  limb,  without  allowing  any  weight  to  the  immersion. 
According  to  these  observations,  the  longitude  is  1 1 2°  05'  12",  and  the  lati- 
tude 41°  42'  43".  All  the  longitudes  on  the  line  of  our  outward  journey, 
between  St.  Vrain’s  fort  and  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  which  were  not 
directly  determined  by  satellites,  have  been  chronometrically  referred  to 
this  place. 

The  people  to-day  were  rather  low-spirited,  hunger  making  them  very 
quiet  and  peaceable  ; and  ther  e was  rarely  an  oath  to  be  heard  in  the  camp — 
not  even  a solitary  enfant  de  garce.  It  was  time  for  the  men  with  an  ex- 
pected supply  of  provisions  from  Fitzpatrick  to  be  in  the  neighborhood  ; and 
the  gun  was  fired  at  evening,  to  give  them  notice  of  our  locality,  but  met 
with  no  response. 

September  14. — About  four  miles  from  this  encampment,  the  trail  led  us 
down  to  the  river,  where  we  unexpectedly  found  an  excellent  ford — the 
stream  being  widened  by  an  island,  and  not  yet  disengaged  from  the  hills 
at  the  foot  of  the  range.  We  encamped  on  a little  creek  where  we  had 
made  a noon  halt  in  descending  the  river.  The  night  was  very  clear  and 
pleasant,  the  sunset  temperature  being  67°. 

The  people  this  evening  looked  so  forlorn,  that  1 gave  them  permission  to 
kill  a fat  young  horse  which  I had  purchased  with  goods  from  the  Snake 
Indians,  and  they  were  very  soon  restored  to  gayety  and  good  humor.  Mr. 
Preussand  myself  could  not  yet  overcome  some  remains  of  civilized  preju- 
dices, and  preferred  to  starve  a little  longer;  feeling  as  much  saddened  as 
if  a crime  had  been  committed. 

The  next  day  we  continued  up  the  valley,  the  soil  being  sometimes  very 
black  and  good,  occasionally  gravelly,  and  occasionally  a kind  of  naked 
salt  plains.  We  found  on  the  way  this  morning  a small  encampment  of 
two  families  of  Snake  Indians,  from  whom  we  purchased  a small  quantity 
of  kooyah.  They  had  piles  of  seeds,  of  three  different  kinds,  spread  out 
upon  pieces  of  buffalo  robe  ; and  the  squaws  had  just  gathered  about  a 
bushel  of  the  roots  of  a thistle,  ( circium  Virginianum.)  They  were  about 
the  ordinary  size  of  carrots,  and,  as  I have  previously  mentioned,  are  sweet 
a-nd  well  flavored,  requiring  only  a long  preparation.  They  had  a band  of 
twelve  or  fifteen  horses,  and  appeared  to  be  growing  in  the  sunshine  with 
about  as  little  labor  as  the  plants  they  were  eating, 


160 


c m ] 

Shortly  afterwards  we  met  an  Indian  on  horseback  who  had  killed  an 
antelope,  which  we  purchased  from  him  fora  little  powder  and  some  balls. 
We  crossed  the  Roseaux,  and  encamped  on  the  left  bank  ; halting  early  for 
the  pleasure  of  enjoying  a wholesome  and  abundant  supper,  and  were  pleas- 
antly engaged  in  protracting  our  unusual  comfort,  when  Tabeau  galloped 
into  the  camp  with  news  that  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  was  encamped  close  by  us, 
with  a good  supply  of  provisions — flour,  rice,  and  dried  meat,  and  even  a 
little  butter.  Excitement  to-night  made  us  all  wakeful  ; and  after  a break- 
fast before  sunrise  the  next  morning,  we  were  again  on  the  road,  and,  con- 
tinuing up  the  valley,  crossed  some  high  points  of  hills,  and  halted  to  noon 
on  the  same  stream,  near  several  lodges  of  Snake  Indians,  from  whom  wre 
purchased  about  a bushel  of  service  berries,  partially  dried.  By  the  gift  of 
a knife,  1 prevailed  upon  a little  boy  to  showr  me  the  kooyah  plant,  which 
proved  to  be  valeriana  edulis.  The  root,  w hich  constitutes  the  kooyah,  is 
large,  of  a very  bright  yellow  color,  w ith  the  characteristic  odor,  but  not  so 
fully  developed  as  in  the  prepared  substance.  It  loves  the  rich  moist  soil 
of  river  bottoms,  which  was  the  locality  in  which  I always  afterwards  found 
it.  It  was  now  entirely  out  of  bloom  ; according  to  my  observation,  flower- 
ing in  the  months  of  May  and  June.  In  the  afternoon  we  entered  a long 
ravine  leading  to  a pass  in  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  waters  of  Bear- 
river  and  the  Snake  river,  or  Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Columbia  ; our  way  being 
very  much  impeded,  and  almost  entirely  blocked  up,  by  compact  fields  of 
luxuriant  artemisia.  Taking  leave  at  this  point  of  the  w aters  of  Bear  river, 
and  of  the  geographical  basin  which  encloses  the  system  of  rivers  and  creeks 
which  belong  to  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  which  so  richly  deserves  a future 
detailed  and  ample  exploration,  1 can  say  of  it,  in  general  terms,  that  the 
bottoms  of  this  river,  ( Bear,)  and  of  some  of  the  creeks  which  i saw-,  form 
a natural  resting  and  recruiting  station  for  travellers,  now,  and  in  all  time 
to  come.  The  bottoms  are  extensive  ; w?ater  excellent ; timber  sufficient ; 
the  soil  good,,  and  w^ell  adapted  to  the  grains  and  grasses  suited  to  such  an 
elevated  region.  A military  post,  and  a civilized  settlement,  wrould  be  of 
great  value  here ; and  cattle  and  horses  would  do  well  where  grass  and  salt 
so  much  abound.  The  lake  will  furnish  exhaustless  supplies  of  salt.  All 
the  mountain  sides  here  are  covet  ed  with  a valuable  nutritious  grass,  called 
bunch  grass,  from  the  form  in  which  it  grows,  which  has  a second  grow  th 
in  the  fail.  The  beasts  of  the  Indians  were  fat  upon  it ; our  own  found  it 
a good  subsistence  ; and  its  quantity  w ill  sustain  any  amount  of  cattle,  and 
make  this  truly  a bucolic  region. 

We  met  here  an  Indian  family  on  horseback,  w hich  had  been  out  to  gather 
service  berries,  and  were  returning  loaded.  This  tree  was  scattered  about 
on  the  hills  ; and  the  upper  part  of  the  pass  was  timbered  with  aspen  ; {pop- 
ulus  trem.,)  ihe  common  blue  flowering  flax  occurring  among  the  plants. 
The  approach  to  the  pass  was  very  steep  ; and  the  summit  about  6,300  feet 
above  the  sea — probably  only  an  uncertain  approximation,  as  at  the  time  of 
observation  it  was  blowing  a violent  gale  of  wind  from  the  northwest,  with 
cumuli  scattered  in  masses  over  the  sky,  the  day  otherwise  bright  and  clear. 
We  descended,  by  a steep  slope,  into  a broad  open  valley — good  soil ; from 
four  to  five  miles  wide;  coming  dowrn  immediately  upon  one  of  the  head- 
waters of  the  Pannack  river,  w'hich  here  loses  itself  in  swampy  ground. 
The  appearance  of  the  country  here  is  not  very  interesting.  On  either  side' 
is  a regular  range  of  mountains  of  the  usual  character,  with  a little  timber, 
tolerably  rocky  on  the  right,  and  higher  and  more  smooth  on  the  left,  with 


161 


C *74  ] 

still  higher  peaks  looking  out  above  the  range.  The  valley  afforded  a good 
level  road  ; but  it  was  late  when  it  brought  us  to  water,  and  we  encamped 
at  dark.  The  northwest  wind  had  blown  up  very  cold  weather,  and  the 
artemisia,  which  was  our  fire  wood  to-night,  did  not  happen  to  be  very 
abundant.  This  plant  loves  a dry,  sandy  soil,  and  cannot  grow  in  the  good 
bottoms  where  it  is  rich  and  moist,  but  on  every  little  eminence,  where 
water  does  not  rest  long,  it  maintains  absolute  possession.  Elevation  above 
the  sea  about  5,100  feet. 

At  night  scattered  fires  glimmered  along  the  mountains,  pointing  out 
camps  of  the  Indians  ; and  we  contrasted  the  comparative  security  in  which 
we  travelled  through  this  country,  with  the  guarded  vigilance  we  were  com- 
pelled to  exert  among  the  Sioux  and  other  Indians  on  the  eastern  side  of 
the  Rocky  mountains. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  50°,  and  at  midnight  at  30p. 

September  17. — The  morning  sky  was  calm  and  clear,  the  temperature 
at  daylight  being  25°,  and  at  sunrise  20°.  There  is  throughout  this  moun- 
tain country  a remarkable  difference  between  the  morning  and  midday 
temperatures,  which  at  this  season  was  very  generally  40°  or  50°,  and  oc- 
casionally greater;  and  frequently,  after  a very  frosty  morning,  the  heat  in 
a few  hours  would  render  the  thinnest  clothing  agreeable.  About  noon  we 
reached  the  main  fork.  The  Pannack  river  was  before  us  ; the  valley  be- 
ing here  \h  mile  wide,  fertile,  and  bordered  by  smooth  hills,  not  over  500 
feet  high,  partly  covered  with  cedar;  a high  ridge,  in  which  there  is  a 
prominent  peak,  rising  behind  those  on  the  left.  We  continued  to  descend 
this  stream,  and  found  on  it  at  night  a wrarm  and  comfortable  camp.  Flax 
occurred  so  frequently  during  the  day  as  to  be  almost  a characteristic,  and 
the  soil  appeared  excellent.  The  opposite  hills  on  the  right  are  broken  here 
into  a great  variety  of  shapes.  The  evening  was  gusty,  with  a temperature 
at  sunset  of  59°.  I obtained,  about  midnight,  an  observation  of  an  emer- 
sion of  the  first  satellite  ; the  night  being  calm  and  very  clear,  the  stars  re- 
markably bright,  and  the  thermometer  at  30°.  Longitude,  from  mean  of 
satellite  and  chronometer,  1 12°  29'  52"  ; and  latitude,  by  observation,  42° 
44'  40". 

September  18. — The  day  clear  and  calm,  with  a temperature  of  25°  at 
sunrise.  After  travelling  seven  or  eight  miles,  we  emerged  on  the  plains  of 
the  Columbia,  in  sight  of  the  famous  u Three  Buttes a well-known  land- 
mark in  the  country,  distant  about  45  miles.  The  French  word  buttey 
which  so  often  occurs  in  this  narrative,  is  retained  from  the  familiar  lan- 
guage of  the  country,  and  identifies  the  objects  to  which  it  refers.  It  is 
naturalized  in  the  region  of  the  Rocky  mountains  ; and,  even  if  desirable  to 
render  it  in  English,  I know  of  no  word  which  would  be  its  precise  equiv- 
alent. It  is  applied  to  the  detached  hills  and  ridges  which  rise  abruptly, 
and  reach  too  high  to  be  called  hills  or  ridges,  and  not  high  enough 
to  be  called  mountains.  Knob , as  applied  in  the  western  States,  is  their 
most  descriptive  term  in  English.  Cerro  is  the  Spanish  term  ; but  no 
translation,  or  paraphrasis,  would  preserve  the  identity  of  these  picturesque 
landmarks,  familiar  to  the  traveller,  and  often  seen  at  a great  distance. 
Covered  as  far  as  could  be  seen  with  artemisia,  the  dark  and  ugly  appearance 
of  this  plain  obtained  for  it  the  name  of  the  Sage  Desert ; and  we  were 
agreeably  surprised,  on  reaching  the  Portneuf  river,  to  see  a beautiful  green, 
valley  w ith  scattered  timber  spread  out  beneath  us,  on  which,  about  four 
miles  distant,  were  glistening  the  white  walls  of  the  fort.  The  Portneuf 


162 


[ 174  ] 

runs  along  the  upland  plain  nearly  to  its  mouth,  and  an  abrupt  descent  of 
perhaps  200  feet  brought  us  down  immediately  upon  the  stream,  which  at 
the  ford  is  100  yards  wide  and  3 feet  deep,  with  clear  water,  a swift  cur- 
rent, and  gravelly  bed  ; but  a little  higher  up  the  breadth  was  only  about 
35  yards,  wrilh  apparently  deep  water. 

In  the  bottom  I remarked  a very  great  number  of  springs  and  sloughs, 
with  remarkably  clear  water  and  gravel  beds.  At  sunset  we  encamped  with 
Mr.  Talbot  and  our  friends,  who  came  on  to  Fort  Hall  when  we  went  to 
the  lake,  and  whom  we  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  all  well,  neither  party 
having  met  w7ith  any  mischance  in  the  interval  of  our  separation.  They, 
too,  had  had  their  share  of  fatigue  and  scanty  provisions,  as  there  had 
been  very  little  game  left  on  the  trail  of  the  populous  emigration  ; and  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick  had  rigidly  husbanded  our  stock  of  flour  and  light  provisions, 
in  view’  of  the  approaching  winter  and  the  long  journey  before  us. 

September  19. — This  morning  the  sky  was  very  dark  and  gloomy,  and 
at  daylight  it  began  snowing  thickly,  and  continued  all  day,  with  cold,  dis- 
agreeable weather.  At  sunrise  the  temperature  was  43°.  I rode  up  to  the 
fort,  and  purchased  from  Mr.  Grant  (the  officer  in  charge  of  the  post)  sev- 
eral very  indifferent  horses,  and  five  oxen  in  very  fine  order,  which  were 
received  at  the  camp  with  great  satisfaction  ; and,  one  being  killed  at  even- 
ing, the  usual  gayety  and  good  humor  were  at  once  restored.  Night,  came 
in  stormy. 

September  20. — We  had  a night  of  snow  and  rain,  and  the  thermometer 
at  sunrise  was  at  34c  ; the  morning  was  dark,  with  a steady  rain,  and  there 
was  still  an  inch  of  snow  on  the  ground,  with  an  abundance  on  the  neigh- 
boring hills  and  mountains.  The  sudden  change  in  the  weather  was  hard 
for  our  animals,  who  trembled  and  shivered  in  the  cold — sometimes  taking 
refuge  in  the  timber,  and  now  and  then  coming  out  and  raking  the  snow 
off  the  ground  for  a little  grass,  or  eating  the  young  willows. 

September  21. — Ice  made  tolerably  thick  during  the  night,  and  in  the 
morning  the  weather  cleared  up  very  bright,  with  a temperature  at  sunrise 
of  29°  ; and  I obtained  a meridian  observation  for  latitude  at  the  fort,  with 
observations  for  time.  The  sky  was  again  covered  in  the  afternoon,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunset  48°. 

September  22. — The  morning  was  cloudy  and  unpleasant,  and  at  sunrise 
a cold  rain  commenced,  with  a temperature  of  41°. 

The  early  approach  of  winter,  and  the  difficulty  of  supporting  a large 
party,  determined  me  to  send  back  a number  of  the  men  who  had  become 
satisfied  that  they  were  not  fitted  for  the  laborious  service  and  frequent  pri- 
vation to  which  they  were  necessarily  exposed,  and  which  there  was  reason 
to  believe  would  become  more  severe  in  the  furtherextension  of  the  voyage. 
I accordingly  called  them  together,  and,  informing  them  of  my  intention  to 
continue  our  journey  during  the  ensuing  winter,  in  the  course  of  which 
they  would  probably  be  exposed  to  considerable  hardship,  succeeded  in 
prevailing  upon  a number  of  them  to  return  voluntarily.  These  were  : 
Charles  De  Forrest,  Henry  Lee,  J.  Campbell,  Wm.  Creuss,  A.  Vasquez,  A. 
Pera,  Patrick  White,  B.  Tesson,  M.  Creely,  Frangois  Lajeunesse,  Basil 
Lajeunesse.  Among  these,  I regretted  very  much  to  lose  Basil  Lajeunesse, 
one  of  the  best  men  in  my  party,  who  was  obliged,  by  the  condition  of  his 
family,  to  be  at  home  in  the  coming  winter.  Our  preparations  having  been 
completed  in  the  interval  of  our  stay  here,  both  parties  were  ready  this 
morning  to  resume  their  respective  routes. 


163 


[ 174  ] 

Except  that  there  is  a greater  quantity  of  wood  used  in  its  construction,  Fort 
Hall  very  much  resembles  the  other  trading  posts  which  have  been  already 
described  to  you,  and  would  be  another  excellent  post  of  relief  for  the  emi- 
gration. It  is  in  the  low,  rich  bottom  of  a valley,  apparently  20  miles  long, 
formed  by  the  confluence  of  Portneuf  river  with  Lewis’s  fork  of  the  Colum- 
bia, which  it  enters  about  nine  miles  below  the  fort,  and  narrowing  gradu- 
ally to  the  mouth  of  the  Pannack  river,  where  it  has  a breadth  of  only  two 
or  three  utiles.  Allowing  50  miles  for  the  road  from  the  Beer  springs  of 
Bear  river  to  Fort  Hall,  its  distance  along  the  travelled  road  from  the  town 
of  Westport,  on  the  frontier  of  Missouri,  byway  of  Fort  Laramie  and  the 
great  South  Pass,  is  1,323  miles.  Beyond  this  place,  on  the  line  of  road 
along  the  barren  valley  of  the  Upper  Columbia,  there  does  not  occur,  for 
a distance  of  nearly  three  hundred  miles  to  the  westward,  a fertile  spot  of 
ground  sufficiently  large  to  produce  the  necessary  quantity  of  grain,  or 
pasturage  enough  to  allow  even  a temporary  repose  to  the  emigrants.  On 
their  recent  passage,  they  had  been  able  to  obtain,  at  very  high  prices  and 
in  insufficient  quantity,  only  such  assistance  as  could  be  afforded  by  a 
small  and  remote  trading  post — and  that  a foreign  one — which,  in  the  supply 
of  its  own  wants,  had  necessarily  drawn  around  it  some  of  the  resources 
of  civilization,  bul  which  obtained  nearly  all  its  supplies  from  the  distant 
depot  of  Vancouver,  by  a difficult  water  carriage  of  250  miles  up  the  Co- 
lumbia river,  and  a land  carriage  by  pack  horses  of  600  miles.  An  Ameri- 
can military  post  sufficiently  strong  to  give  to  their  road  a perfect  security 
against  the  Indian  tribes,  who  are  unsettled  in  locality  and  very  uncertain 
in  their  disposition,  and  which,  with  the  necessary  facilities  for  the  repair 
of  their  equipage,  would  be  able  to  afford  them  relief  in  stock  and  grain 
from  the  produce  of  the  post,  w7ould  be  of  extraordinary  value  to  the  emi- 
gration. Such  a post  ( and  all  others  which  may  be  established  on  the  line 
to  Oregon)  would  naturally  form  the  nucleus  of  a settlement,  at  which 
supplies  and  repose  would  be  obtained  by  the  emigrant,  or  trading  cara- 
vans, which  may  hereafter  traverse  these  elevated,  and,  in  many  places, 
desolate  and  inhospitable  regions. 

I subjoin  an  analysis  of  the  soil  in  the  river  bottom  near  Fort  Hall,  which 
will  be  of  assistance  in  enabling  you  to  form  some  correct  idea  of  its  gen- 
eral character  in  the  neighboring  country.  I characterize  it  as  good  land, 
but  the  analysis  will  show  its  precise  properties. 

Analysis  of  soil. 


Silica 

. 

- 

- 

_ 

- 68.55 

Alumina 

- 

- 

- 

_ 

7.45 

Carbonate  of  lime 

- 

- 

. 

. 

8.51 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  - 

- 

- 

- 

- 

5.09 

Oxide  of  iron 

- 

- 

- 

- 

1.40 

Organic  vegetable  matter 

- 

- 

- 

- 

4.74 

Water  and  loss  - 

- 

- 

- 

- 

4.26 

100.00 


Our  observations  place  this  post  in  longitude  112?  29'  54",  latitude  43° 
OF  30",  and  in  elevation  above  the  sea  4,500  feet. 

Taking  leave  of  the  homeward  party,  we  resumed  our  journey  down 


164 


[ 174  ] 

the  valley,  the  weather  being  very  cold,  and  the  rain  coming  ir.  hard  gusts, 
which  the  wind  blew  directly  in  our  faces.  We  forded  the  Portneuf  in  a 
storm  of  rain,  the  water  in  the  river  being  frequently  up  to  the  axles,  and 
about  110  yards  wide.  After  the  gust,  the  weather  improved  a little,  and 
we  encamped  about  three  miles  below,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Pannack  river, 
on  Lewis’s  fork,  which  here  has  a breadth  of  about  120  yards.  The  tem- 
perature at  sunset  was  42°;  the  sky  partially  covered  with  dark,  rainy 
clouds. 

September  23. — The  temperature  at  sunrise  was  32°  ; the  morning  dark, 
and  snow  falling  steadily  and  thickly,  with  a light  air  from  the  southward. 
Profited  of  being  obliged  to  remain  in  camp,  to  take  hourly  barometrical 
observations  from  sunrise  to  midnight.  The  wind  at  eleven  o’clock  set  in 
from  the  northward  in  heavy  gusts,  and  the  snow  changed  into  rain.  In 
the  afternoon,  when  the  sky  brightened,  the  rain  had  washed  all  the  snow 
from  the  bottoms ; but  the  neighboring  mountains,  from  summit  to  foot,  were 
luminously  white — an  inauspicious  commencement  of  the  autumn,  of  which 
this  was  the  first  day. 

September  24. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  at  35°,  and  a blue  sky 
in  the  west  promised  a fine  day.  The  river  bottoms  here  are  narrow  and 
swampy,  with  frequent  sloughs ; and  after  crossing  the  Pannack,  the  road 
continued  along  the  uplands,  rendered  very  slippery  by  the  soil  of  wet  clay, 
and  entirely  covered  with  artemisia  bushes,  among  which  occur  frequent 
fragments  of  obsidian.  At  noon  we  encamped  in  a grove  of  willows,  at  the 
upper  end  of  a group  of  islands,  about  half  a mile  above  the  American  falls 
of  Snake  river.  Among  the  willows  here,  were  some  bushes  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke’s  currant,  ( ribes  aureum.)  The  river  here  enters  between  low  mu- 
ral banks,  which  consist  of  a fine  vesicular  trap  rock,  the  intermediate  por- 
tions being  compact  and  crystalline.  Gradually  becoming  higher  in  its 
downward  course,  these  banks  of  scoriated  volcanic  rock  form,  with  occa- 
sional interruptions,  its  characteristic  feature  along  the  whole  line  to  the 
Dalles  of  the  Lower  Columbia,  resembling  a chasm  which  had  been  rent 
through  the  country,  and  which  the  river  had  afterwards  taken  for  its  bed. 
The  immediate  valley  of  the  river  is  a high  plain,  covered  with  black  rocks 
and  artemisias.  In  the  south  is  a bordering  range  of  mountains,  which, 
although  not  very  high,  are  broken  and  covered  with  snow  ; and  at  a great 
distance  to  the  north  is  seen  the  high,  snowy  line  of  the  Salmon  river 
mountains,  in  front  of  which  stand  out  prominently  in  the  plain  the  three 
isolated  rugged-looking  little  mountains  commonly  known  as  the  Three 
Buttes.  Between  the  river  and  the  distant  Salmon  river  range,  the  plain 
is  represented  by  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  as  so  entirely  broken  up  and  rent  into 
chasms  as  to  be  impracticable  fora  man  even  on  foot.  In  the  sketch  annexed, 
the  point  of  view  is  low,  but  it  conveys  very  well  some  idea  of  the  open 
character  of  the  country,  with  the  buttes  rising  out  above  the  general  line. 
By  measurement,  the  river  above  is  870  feet  wide,  immediately  contracted  at 
the  fall  in  the  form  of  a lock,  by  jutting  piles  of  scoriaceous  basalt,  over  which 
the  foaming  river  must  present  a grand  appearance  at  the  time  of  high  water. 
The  evening  was  clear  and  pleasant,  with  dew  ; and  at  sunset  the  tempera- 
ture was  54°.  By  observation,  the  latitude  is  42°  47'  05",  and  the  longi- 
tude 112°  40'  13".  A few  hundred  yards  below  the  falls,  and  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  river,  is  the  escarpment  from  which  were  taken  the  specimens 
that  in  the  appendix  are  numbered  94,  96,  97,  101,  102,  106,  and  107. 
September  25. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  47?.  The  day  came  in  clear. 


165 


E 174  ] 

with  a strong  gale  from  the  south,  which  commenced  at  11  of  the  last 
night.  The  road  to-day  led  along  the  river,  which  is  full  of  rapids  and 
small  falls.  Grass  is  very  scanty  ; and  along  the  rugged  banks  are  scat- 
tered cedars,  with  an  abundance  of  rocks  and  sage.  We  travelled  14  miles, 
and  encamped  in  the  afternoon  near  the  river,  on  a rocky  creek,  the  bed 
of  which  was  entirely  occupied  with  boulders  of  a very  large  size.  For 
the  last  three  or  four  miles  the  right  bank  of  the  river  has  a palisaded  ap- 
pearance. One  of  the  oxen  was  killed  here  for  food.  The  thermometer 
at  evening  was  at  55°,  the  sky  almost  overcast,  and  the  barometer  indi- 
cated an  elevation  of  4,400  feet. 

September  26. — Rain  during  the  night,  and  the  temperature  at  sunrise 
42°.  Travelling  along  the  river,  in  about  4 miles  we  reached  a picturesque 
stream,  to  which  we  gave  the  name  of  Fall  creek.  It  is  remarkable  for  the 
many  falls  which  occur  in  a short  distance ; and  its  bed  is  composed  of  a 
calcareous  tufa,  or  vegetable  rock,  composed  principally  of  the  remains  of 
reeds  and  mosses,  resembling  that  at  the  Basin  spring  on  Bear  river. 

The  road  along  the  river  blulfs  had  been  occasionally  very  bad  ; and 
imagining  that  some  rough  obstacles  rendered  such  a detour  necessary,  we 
followed  for  several  miles  a plain  wagon  road  leading  up  this  stream, until 
we  reached  a point  whence  it  could  be  seen  making  directly  towards  a low 
place  in  the  range  on  the  south  side  of  the  valley,  and  we  became  imme- 
diately aware  that  we  were  on  a trail  formed  by  a party  of  wagons,  in  com- 
pany with  whom  we  had  encamped  at  Elm  grove,  near  the  frontier  of 
Missouri,  and  which  you  will  remember  were  proceeding  to  Upper  Califor- 
nia under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Jos.  Chiles.  At  the  time  of  their  departure, 
no  practicable  passes  were  known  in  the  southern  Rocky  mountains  with- 
in the  territory  of  the  United  States  ; and  the  probable  apprehension  of  dif- 
ficulty in  attempting  to  pass  near  thesettled  frontierof  New  Mexico, together 
with  the  desert  character  of  the  unexplored  region  beyond, had  induced  them 
to  take  a more  northern  and  circuitous  route  by  way  of  the  Sweet  Water  pass 
and  Fort  Hall.  They  had  still  between  them  and  the  valley  of  the  Sacramen- 
to a great  mass  of  mountains,  forming  the  Sierra  Nevada , here  commonly 
known  as  the  Great  California  mountain , and  which  were  at  this  time 
considered  as  presenting  an  impracticable  barrier  to  wheeled  carriages. 
Various  considerations  had  suggested  to  them  a division  of  the  party ; and 
a greater  portion  of  the  camp,  including  the  wagons,  with  the  mail  and  other 
stores,  were  now  proceeding  under  the  guidance  of  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  who 
had  engaged  to  conduct  them,  by  a long  sweep  to  the  southward,  around 
what  is  called  the  point  of  the  mountain  ; and,  crossing  through  a pass 
known  only  to  himself,  gain  the  banks  of  the  Sacramento  by  the  valley  of 
the  San  Joaquin.  It  w?as  a long  and  a hazardous  journey  for  a party  in  which 
there  were  women  and  children.  Sixty  days  was  the  shortest  period  of 
time  in  which  they  could  reach  the  point  of  the  mountain,  and  their  route 
lay  through  a country  inhabited  by  wild  and  badly  disposed  Indians,  and 
very  poor  in  game  ; but  the  leader  was  a man  possessing  great  and  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  Indians,  with  an  extraordinary  firmness  and  decision  of 
character.  In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Chiles  had  passed  down  the  Columbia 
with  a party  of  ten  or  twelve  men,  with  the  intention  of  reaching  the  set- 
tlements on  the  Sacramento  by  a more  direct  course,  which  indefinite  in- 
formation from  hunters  had  indicated  in  the  direction  of  the  head  waters 
of  the  Riviere  aux  Malheur s ; and  having  obtained  there  a reinforcement 
of  animals,  and  a supply  of  provisions,  meet  the  wagons  before  they  should 


166 


[ 174  ] 

have  reached  the  point  of  the  mountain,  at  a place  which  had  been  pre- 
viously agreed  upon.  In  the  course  of  our  narrative,  we  shall  be  able  to 
give  you  some  information  of  the  fortune  which  attended  the  movements 
of  these  adventurous  travellers. 

Having  discovered  our  error,  we  immediately  regained  the  line  along 
the  river,  which  the  road  quitted  about  noon,  and  encamped  at  5 o’clock 
on  a stream  called  Raft  river,  ( Riviere  aux  Cajeux , ) having  travelled  only 
13  miles.  In  the  north,  the  Salmon  river  mountains  are  visible  at  a very 
far  distance ; and  on  the  left,  the  ridge  in  which  Raft  river  heads  is  about 
20  miles  distant,  rocky,  and  tolerably  high.  Thermometer  at  sunset  44°, 
with  a partially  clouded  sky,  and  a sharp  wind  from  the  SW. 

September  27. — It  w7as  now  no  longer  possible,  as  in  our  previous  journey, 
to  travel  regularly  every  day,  and  find  at  any  moment  a convenient  place 
for  repose  at  noon  or  a camp  at  night;  but  the  halting  places  were  now 
generally  fixed  along  the  road,  by  the  nature  of  the  country,  at  places  where, 
with  w'ater,  there  was  a little  scanty  grass.  Since  leaving  the  American 
falls,  the  road  had  frequently  been  very  bad  ; the  many  short,  steep  ascents, 
exhausting  the  strength  of  our  wrorn-out  animals,  requiring  always  at  such 
places  the  assistance  of  the  men  to  get  up  each  cart,  one  by  one  ; and  our 
progress  with  twelve  or  fourteen  wheeled  carriages,  though  light  and  made 
for  the  purpose,  in  such  a rocky  country,  was  extremely  slow  ; and  I again 
determined  to  gain  time  by  a division  of  the  camp.  Accordingly,  to  day 
the  parties  again  separated,  constituted  very  much  as  before — Mr.  Fitzpat- 
rick remaining  in  charge  of  the  heavier  baggage. 

The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  with  a white  frost,  and  the  tempera- 
ture at  sunrise  24°. 

To-day  the  country  had  a very  forbidding  appearance  ; and,  after  travel- 
ling 20  miles  over  a slightly  undulating  plain,  we  encamped  at  a consider- 
able spring,  called  Swamp  creek,  rising  in  low  grounds  near  the  point  of  a 
spur  from  the  mountain.  Returning  with  a small  party  in  a starving  con- 
dition from  the  w estward  12  or  14  years  since,  Carson  had  met  here  three 
or  four  buffalo  bulls,  two  of  which  were  killed.  They  wrere  among  the 
pioneers  which  had  made  the  experiment  of  colonizing  in  the  valley  of  the 
Columbia,  and  which  had  failed,  as  heretofore  stated.  At  sunset  the  ther- 
mometer wras  at  46°,  and  the  evening  was  overcast,  with  a cold  wind  from 
the  SE.,  and  to-night  we  had  only  sage  for  fire  wTood.  Mingled  with  the 
artemisia  was  a shrubby  and  thorny  chenopodiaceous  plant. 

September  28. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  40°.  The  wind  rose  early  to 
a gale  from  the  w7est,  with  a very  cold  driving  rain  ; and,  after  an  uncom- 
fortable day’s  ride  of  25  miles,  we  were  glad  when  at  evening  we  found  a 
sheltered  camp,  where  there  wras  an  abundance  of  wood,  at  some  elevated 
rocky  islands  covered  with  cedar,  near  the  commencement  of  another  long 
canon  of  the  river.  With  the  exception  of  a short  detention  at  a deep  little 
stream  called  Goose  creek,  and  some  occasional  rocky  places,  we  had  to- 
day a very  good  road  ; but  the  country  has  a barren  appearance,  sandy,  and 
densely  covered  with  the  artemisias  from  the  banks  of  the  river  to  the  foot 
of  the  mountains.  Here  I remarked,  among  the  sage  bushes,  green  bunches 
of  what  is  called  the  second  growth  of  grass.  The  river  to-day  has  had  a 
smooth  appearance,  free  from  rapids,  with  a low,  sandy  hill  slope  bordering 
the  bottoms,  in  which  there  is  a little  good  soil.  Thermometer  at  sunset 
45°,  blowing  a gale,  and  disagreeably  cold. 

September  29. — The  thermometer  at  sunrise  36°,  with  a bright  sun,  and 


it*-  tJ*v 


,v  > y. 


< %■ 


m 

K%t 


OUTLET  OF 


SUBTERRAN  !~A  N RIVER 


167 


[ 174  ] 

appearance  of  finer  weather.  The  road  for  several  miles  was  extremely 
rocky,  and  consequently  bad  : but,  entering  after  this  a sandy  country,  it 
became  very  good,  with  no  other  interruption  than  the  sage  bushes,  which 
covered  the  river  plain  so  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  and,  with  their  uni- 
form tint  of  dark  gray,  gave  to  the  country  a gloomy  and  sombre  appear- 
ance. All  the  day  the  course  of  the  river  has  been  between  walls  of  the 
black  volcanic  rock,  a dark  line  of  the  escarpment  on  the  opposite  side 
pointing  out  its  course,  and  sweeping  along  in  foam  at  places  where  the 
mountains  which  border  the  valley  present  always  on  the  left  two  ranges, 
the  lower  one  a spur  of  the  higher;  and,  on  the  opposite  side,  the  Salmon 
river  mountains  are  visible  at  a great  distance.  Having  made  24  miles, 
we  encamped  about  5 o’clock  on  Rock  creek — a stream  having  considera- 
ble water,  a swift  current,  and  wooded  with  willow. 

September  30. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  28°.  In  its  progress  towards 
the  river,  this  creek  soon  enters  a chasm  of  the  volcanic  rock,  which  in 
places  along  the  wall  presents  a columnar  appearance  ; and  the  road  be- 
comes extremely  rocky  whenever  it  passes  near  its  banks.  It  is  only  about 
twenty  feet  wide  where  the  road  crosses  it,  with  a deep  bed,  and  steep  banks, 
covered  with  rocky  fragments,  with  willows  and  a little  grass  on  its  narrow 
bottom.  The  soil  appears  to  be  full  of  calcareous  matter,  with  which  the 
rocks  are  incrusted.  The  fragments  of  rock  which  had  been  removed  by 
the  emigrants  in  making  a road  where  we  ascended  from  the  bed  of  this 
creek  were  whitened  with  lime ; and  during  the  afternoon’s  march  I re- 
marked in  the  soil  a considerable  quantity  of  calcareous  concretions.  To- 
wards evening  the  sages  became  more  sparse,  and  the  clear  spaces  were  oc- 
cupied by  tufts  of  green  grass.  The  river  still  continued  its  course  through 
a trough  or  open  canon  ; and  towards  sunset  we  followed  the  trail  of  several 
wagons  which  had  turned  in  towards  Snake  river,  and  encamped,  as  they 
had  done,  on  the  top  of  the  escarpment.  There  was  no  grass  here,  the 
soil  among  the  sage  being  entirely  naked  ; but  there  is  occasionally  a little 
bottom  along  the  river,  which  a short  ravine  of  rocks,  at  rare  intervals, 
leaves  accessible ; and  by  one  of  these  we  drove  our  animals  down,  and 
found  some  tolerably  good  grass  bordering  the  water. 

Immediately  opposite  to  us,  a subterranean  river  bursts  out  directly  from 
the  face  of  the  escarpment,  and  falls  in  white  foam  to  the  river  below.  In 
the  views  annexed,  you  will  find,  with  a sketch  of  this  remarkable  fall,  a 
representation  of  the  mural  precipices  which  enclose  the  main  river,  and 
which  form  its  characteristic  feature  along  a great  portion  of  its  course.  A 
melancholy  and  strange-looking  country — one  of  fracture,  and  violence,  and 
fire. 

We  had  brought  with  us,  when  we  separated  from  the  camp,  a large 
gaunt  ox,  in  appearance  very  poor  ; but,  being  killed  to-night,  to  the  great 
joy  of  the  people,  he  was  found  to  be  remarkably  fat.  As  usual  at  such  oc- 
currences, the  evening  was  devoted  to  gayety  and  feasting ; abundant  fare 
now  made  an  epoch  among  us  ; and  in  this  laborious  life,  in  such  a country 
as  this,  our  men  had  but  little  else  to  enjoy.  The  temperature  at  sunset 
was  65°,  with  a clear  sky  and  a very  high  wrind.  By  the  observation  of 
the  evening,  the  encampment  was  in  longitude  114°  25'  04",  and  in  lati- 
tude 42°  38'  44". 

October  1. — The  morning  clear,  wTith  wind  from  the  west,  and  the  ther- 
mometer  at  55°.  We  descended  to  the  bottom,  taking  with  us  the  boat,  for 
the  purpose  of  visiting  the  fall  in  the  opposite  cliffs  ; and  while  it  was  being 


168 


r 174  ] 

filled  with  air,  we  occupied  ourselves  in  measuring  the  river,  which  is 
1,786  feet  in  breadth,  with  banks  200  feet  high.  We  were  surprised,  on  our 
arrival  at  the  opposite  side,  to  find  a beautiful  basin  of  clear  water,  formed 
by  the  falling  river,  around  which  the  rocks  were  whitened  by  some  saline 
incrustation.  Here  the  Indians  had  constructed  wicker  dams,  although  I 
was  informed  that  the  salmon  do  not  ascend  the  river  so  far  ; and  its  char- 
acter below  would  apparently  render  it  impracticable. 

The  ascent  of  the  steep  hill  side  was  rendered  a little  difficult  by  a dense 
growth  of  shrubs  and  fields  of  cane  ; and  there  were  frequent  hidden  crev- 
ices among  the  rocks,  where  the  water  was  heard  rushing  below  ; but  we 
succeeded  in  reaching  the  main  stream,  which,  issuing  from  between  strata 
of  the  trap  rock  in  two  principal  branches,  produced  almost  immediately  a 
torrent,  22  feet  wide,  and  white  with  foam.  It  is  a picturesque  spot  of  sin- 
gular beauty  ; overshaded  by  bushes,  from  under  which  the  torrent  glances, 
tumbling  into  the  white  basin  below  where  the  clear  water  contrasted  beau- 
tifully with  the  muddy  stream  of  the  river.  Its  outlet  was  covered  with  a 
rank  growth  of  canes,  and  a variety  of  unusual  plants,  and  nettles,  {urtica 
canabina ,)  which,  before  they  were  noticed,  had  set  our  hands  and  arms 
on  fire.  The  temperature  of  the  spring  was  58°,  while  that  of  the  river 
was  51  The  perpendicular  height  of  the  place  at  which  this  stream  issues 
is  45  feet  above  the  river,  and  152  feet  below  the  summit  of  the  precipice, 
making  nearly  200  feet  for  the  height  of  the  wall.  On  the  hill  side  here, 
was  obtained  the  specimen  designated  by  the  number  12  in  the  collection, 
consisting  principally  of  fragments  of  the  shells  of  small  Crustacea,  and 
which  was  probably  formed  by  deposition  from  these  springs  proceeding 
from  some  lake  or  river  in  the  highlands  above. 

We  resumed  our  journey  at  noon,  the  day  being  hot  and  bright;  and,, 
after  a march  of  17  miles,  encamped  at  sunset  on  the  river,  near  several 
lodges  of  Snake  Indians. 

Our  encampment  was  about  one  mile  below  the  Fishing  falls , a series 
of  cataracts  with  very  inclined  planes,  which  are  probably  so  named  because 
they  form  a barrier  to  the  ascent  of  the  salmon  ; and  the  great  fisheries 
from  which  the  inhabitants  of  this  barren  region  almost  entirely  derive  a 
subsistence  commence  at  this  place. . These  appeared  to  be  unusually  gay 
savages,  fond  of  loud  laughter;  and,  in  their  apparent  good  nature  and 
merry  character,  struck  me  as  being  entirely  different  from  the  Indians 
we  had  been  accustomed  to  see.  From  several  who  visited  our  camp  in 
the  evening,  we  purchased,  in  exchange  for  goods,  dried  salmon.  At  this 
season  they  are  not  very  fat,  but  we  were  easily  pleased.  The  Indians 
made  us  comprehend,  that  when  the  salmon  came  up  the  river  in  the  spring, 
they  are  so  abundant  that  they  merely  throw  in  their  spears  at  random, 
certain  of  bringing  out  a fish. 

These  poor  people  are  but  slightly  provided  with  winter  clothing;  there 
is  but  little  game  to  furnish  skins  for  the  purpose  ; and  of  a little  animal 
which  seemed  to  be  the  most  numerous,  it  required  20  skins  to  make  a 
covering  to  the  knees.  But  they  are  still  a joyous  talkative  race,  who 
grow  fat  and  become  poor  with  the  salmon,  which  at  least  never  fail 
them — the  dried  being  used  in  the  absence  of  the  fresh.  VVe  are  encamped 
immediately  on  the  river  bank,  and  with  the  salmon  jumping  up  out  of  the 
water,  and  Indians  paddling  about  in  boats  made  of  rushes,  or  laughing 
around  the  fires,  the  camp  to-night  has  quite  a lively  appearance. 

The  river  at  this  place  is  more  open  than  for  some  distance  above  ; and. 


169 


[ 174  ] 

for  the  time,  the  black  precipices  have  disappeared,  and  no  calcareous  mat- 
ter is  visible  in  the  soil.  The  thermometer  at  sunset  74°  ; clear  and  calm. 

October  2. — The  sunrise  temperature  was  48°  ; the  weather  clear  and 
calm.  Shortly  after  leaving  the  encampment,  we  crossed  a stream  of  clear 
water,  with  a variable  breadth  of  1 0 to  25  yards,  broken  by  rapids,  and  lightly 
wooded  with  willow,  and  having  a little  grass  on  its  small  bottom  land. 
The  barrenness  of  the  country  is  in  fine  contrast  to-day  with  the  mingled 
beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  river,  which  is  more  open  than  hitherto,  with  a 
constant  succession  of  falls  and  rapids.  Over  the  edge  of  the  black  cliffs, 
and  out  from  their  faces,  are  falling  numberless  streams  and  springs;  and 
all  the  line  of  the  river  is  in  motion  with  the  play  of  the  water.  In  about 
seven  miles  we  reached  the  most  beautiful  and  picturesque  fall  I had  seen 
on  the  river. 

On  the  opposite  side,  the  vertical  fall  is  perhaps  18  feet  high  ; and  nearer, 
the  sheet  of  foaming  water  is  divided  and  broken  into  cataracts,  where  seve- 
ral little  islands  on  the  brink  and  in  the  river  above  give  it  much  pictu- 
resque beauty,  and  make  it  one  of  those  places  the  traveller  turns  again  and 
again  to.  fix  in  his  memory.  There  were  several  lodges  of  Indians  here, 
from  whom  we  traded  salmon.  Below  this  place  the  river  makes  a remark- 
able bend  ; and  the  road,  ascending  the  ridge,  gave  us  a fine  view'  of  the 
river  below,  intersected  at  many  places  by  numerous  fish  dams.  In  the 
north,  about  50  miles  distant,  were  some  high  snowy  peaks  of  the  Salmon 
river  mountains  ; and  in  the  northeast,  the  last  peak  of  the  range  was  visible 
at  the  distance  of  perhaps  100  miles  or  more.  The  river  hills  consist  of 
very  broken  masses  of  sand,  covered  every  where  with  the  same  interminable 
fields  of  sage,  and  occasionally  the  road  is  very  heavy.  We  now  very  fre- 
quently saw  Indians,  who  were  strung  along  the  river  at  every  little  rapid 
where  fish  are  to  be  caught,  and  the  cry  haggai , haggai , (fish,)  was  con- 
stantly heard  whenever  we  passed  near  their  huts,  or  met  them  in  the  road. 
Very  many  of  them  were  oddly  and  partially  dressed  in  overcoat,  shirt, 
waistcoat,  or  pantaloons,  or  whatever  article  of  clothing  they  had  been  able 
to  procure  in  trade  from  the  emigrants  ; for  we  had  now  entirely  quitted 
the  country  where  hawk’sbells,  beads,  and  vermilion,  were  the  current  coin, 
and  found  that  here  only  useful  articles,  and  chiefly  clothing,  were  in  great 
request.  These,  however,  are  eagerly  sought  after  ; and  for  a few  trifling 
pieces  of  clothing,  travellers  may  procure  food  sufficient  to  carry  them  to 
the  Columbia. 

We  made  a long  stretch  across  the  upper  plain,  and  encamped  on  the 
bluff,  where  the  grass  was  very  green  and  good  ; the  soil  of  the  upper 
plains  containing  a considerable  proportion  of  calcareous  matter.  This 
green  freshness  of  the  grass  was  very  remarkable  for  the  season  of  the  year. 
Again  we  heard  the  roar  of  a fall  in  the  river  below,  where  the  water  in  an 
unbroken  volume  goes  over  a descent  of  several  feet.  The  night  is  clear, 
and  the  weather  continues  very  warm  and  pleasant,  with  a sunset  tempera- 
ture of  70°. 

October  3. — The  morning  was  pleasant,  with  a temperature  at  sunrise 
of  42°.  The  road  was  broken  by  ravines  among  the  hills,  and  in  one  of 
these,  which  made  the  bed  of  a dry  creek,  I found  a fragmentary  stratum, 
or  brecciated  conglomerate,  consisting  of  flinty  slate  pebbles,  with  frag- 
ments of  limestone  containing  fossil  shells,  which  will  be  found  described 
in  the  appendix  under  the  numbers  16,  21,  and  39. 

On  the  left,  the  mountains  are  visible  at  the  distance  of  twTenty  or  thirty 


170 


[ 174  ] 

miles,  appearing  smooth  and  rather  low  ; but  at  intervals  higher  peaks  look 
out  from  beyond,  and  indicate  that  the  main  ridge,  which  we  are  leaving 
with  the  course  of  the  river,  and  which  forms  the  northern  boundary  of 
the  Great  Basin,  still  maintains  its  elevation.  About  2 o’clock  we  ar- 
rived at  the  ford  where  the  road  crosses  to  the  right  bank  of  Snake  river. 
An  Indian  was  hired  to  conduct  us  through  the  ford,  which  proved  imprac- 
ticable for  us,  the  water  sweeping  away  the  howitzer  and  nearly  drowning 
the  mules,  which  we  were  obliged  to  extricate  by  cutting  them  out  of  the 
harness.  The  river  here  is  expanded  into  a little  bay,  in  which  there  are 
two  islands,  across  which  is  the  road  of  the  ford  ; and  the  emigrants  had 
passed  by  placing  two  of  their  heavy  wagons  abreast  of  each  other,  so  as 
to  oppose  a considerable  mass  against  the  body  of  water.  The  Indians 
informed  us  that  one  of  the  men,  in  attempting  to  turn  some  cattle  which 
had  taken  a wrong  direction,  was  carried  off  by  the  current  and  drowned. 
Since  their  passage,  the  water  had  risen  considerably  ; but,  fortunately,  we 
had  a resource  in  a boat,  which  was  filled  with  air  and  launched  ; and 
at  seven  o’clock  we  were  safely  encamped  on  the  opposite  bank,  the  animals 
swimming  across,  and  the  carriage,  howitzer,  and  baggage  of  the  camp, 
being  carried  over  in  the  boat.  At  the  place  where  we  crossed,  above  the 
islands,  the  i iver  had  narrowed  to  a breadth  of  1 ,049  feet  by  measurement, 
the  greater  portion  of  which  was  from  six  to  eight  feet  deep.  We  were 
obliged  to  make  our  camp  where  we  landed,  among  the  Indian  lodges, 
which  are  semicircular  huts  made  of  willow,  thatched  over  with  straw, 
and  open  to  the  sunny  south.  By  observation,  the  latitude  of  our  encamp- 
ment on  the  right  bank  of  the  river  was  42°  55'  58"  ; chronometric  longi- 
tude 115°  04'  46",  and  the  travelled  distance  from  Fort  Hall  208  miles. 

October  4. — Calm  pleasant  day,  with  the  thermometer  at  sunrise  af  47°. 
Leaving  the  river  at  a considerable  distance  to  the  left,  and  following  up 
the  bed  of  a rocky  creek,  with  occasional  holes  of  water,  in  about  six  miles 
we  ascended,  by  a long  and  rather  steep  hill,  to  a plain  600  feet  above  the 
river,  over  wThich  wTe  continued  to  travel  during  the  day,  having  a broken 
ridge  2,000  or  3,000  feet  high  on  the  right.  The  plain  terminates,  where 
we  ascended,  in  an  escarpment  of  vesicular  trap  rock,  which  supplies  the 
fragments  of  the  creek  below.  The  sky  clouded  over,  with  a strong  wind 
from  the  northwest,  with  a few  drops  of  rain  and  occasional  sunlight,  threat- 
ening a change. 

Artemisia  still  covers  the  plain,  but  Purshia  tridentata  makes  its  appear- 
ance here  on  the  hill  sides  and  on  bottoms  of  the  creeks — quite  a tree  in 
size,  and  larger  than  the  artemisia.  We  crossed  several  hollows  with  a 
little  water  in  them,  and  improved  grass;  and,  turning  off  from  the  road  in 
the  afternoon  in  search  of  w ater,  travelled  about  three  miles  up  the  bed  of 
a w illow  creek,  tow  ards  the  mountain,  and  found  a good  encampment,  with 
wood  and  grass,  and  little  ponds  of  water  in  the  bed  of  the  creek;  which 
must  be  of  more  importance  at  other  seasons,  as  we  found  there  several 
old  fixtures  for  fishing.  There  wrere  many  holes  on  the  creek  prairie, 
w'hich  had  been  made  by  the  diggers  in  search  of  roots. 

Wind  increased  to  a violent  gale  from  the  NW.,  with  a temperature  at 
sunset  of  57°. 

October  5. — The  morning  was  calm  and  clear,  and  at  sunrise  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  32°.  The  road  to-day  was  occasionally  extremely  rocky, 
with  hard  volcanic  fragments,  and  our  travelling  very  slow.  In  about  nine 
miles  the  road  brought  us  to  a group  of  smoking  hot  springs,  with  a tem- 


171 


[ 174  ] 

perature  of  164°.  There  were  a fewhelianthi  in  bloom,  with  some  other 
low  plants,  and  the  place  was  green  round  about ; the  ground  warm,  and 
the  air  pleasant,  with  a summer  atmosphere  that  was  very  grateful  in  a day 
of  high  and  cold  searching  wind.  The  rocks  were  covered  with  a white 
and  red  incrustation  ; and  the  water  has  on  the  tongue  the  same  unpleas- 
ant effect  as  that  of  the  Basin  spring  on  Bear  river.  They  form  several 
branches,  and  bubble  up  with  force  enough  to  raise  the  small  pebbles  seve- 
ral inches. 

The  following  is  an  analysis  of  the  deposite  with  which  the  rocks  are 
incrusted : 

Analysis, 


Silica  - 

- 

- 

- 72.55 

Carbonate  of  lime 

- 

- 

- 14.60 

Carbonate  of  magnesia 

- 

- 

- 1.20 

Oxide  of  iron 

- 

- 

- 4.65 

Alumina  - - 

- 

- 

- 0.70 

Chloride  of  sodium,  &e.  ) 

Sulphate  of  soda 

. 

. 

- 1.10 

Sulphate  of  lime,  &c.  ) 

Organic  vegetable  matter  ) 
Water  and  loss  ) 

- 

- 

- 5.20 

100.00 


These  springs  are  near  the  foot  of  the  ridge,  (a  dark  and  rugged  looking 
mountain,)  in  which  some  of  the  nearer  rocks  have  a reddish  appearance, 
and  probably  consist  of  a reddish-brown  trap,  fragments  of  which  were 
scattered  along  the  road  after  leaving  the  spring.  The  road  was  now  about 
to  cross  the  point  of  this  mountain,  which  we  judged  to  be  a spur  from  the 
Salmon  river  range.  We  crossed  a small  creek,  and  encamped  about 
sunset  on  a stream,  which  is  probably  Lake  river.  This  is  a small  stream, 
some  five  or  six  feet  broad,  with  a swift  current,  timbered  principally  with 
willows  and  some  few  cottonwoods.  Along  the  banks  were  canes,  rose 
bushes,  and  clematis,  with  Purshia  tridentata  and  artemisias  on  the  upper 
bottom.  The  sombre  appearance  of  the  country  is  somew’hat  relieved  in 
coming  unexpectedly  from  the  dark  rocks  upon  these  green  and  wooded 
watercourses,  sunk  in  chasms  ; and,  in  the  spring,  the  contrasted  effect 
must  make  them  beautiful. 

The  thermometer  at  sunset  47°,  and  the  night  threatening  snow. 

October  6. — The  morning  warm,  the  thermometer  46°  at  sunrise,  and  sky 
entirely  clouded.  After  travellingaboutthree  milesover  an  extremely  rocky 
road,  the  volcanic  fragments  began  to  disappear  ; and,  entering  among  the 
hills  at  the  point  of  the  mountain,  we  found  ourselves  suddenly  in  a granite 
country.  Here,  the  character  of  the  vegetation  was  very  much  changed  ; 
the  artemisia  disappeared  almost  entirely,  showing  only  at  intervals  towards 
the  close  of  the  day,  and  was  replaced  by  Purshia  tridentata,  with  flowering 
shrubs,  and  small  fields  of  dieteria  divaricata,  which  gave  bloom  and  gayety 
to  the  hills.  These  were  every  wrhere  covered  with  a fresh  and  green  short 
grass,  like  that  of  the  early  spring.  This  is  the  fall  or^second  growth,  the 
dried  grass  having  been  burnt  off  by  the  Indians;  and  wherever  the  fire 
has  passed,  the  bright-green  color  is  universal.  The  soil  among  the  hills 


172 


[ 174  ] 

is  altogether  different  from  that  of  the  river  plain,  being  in  many  places 
black,  in  others  sandy  and  gravelly,  but  of  a firm  and  good  character,  ap- 
pearing to  result  from  the  decomposition  of  the  granite  rocks,  which  is  pro- 
ceeding rapidly. 

In  quitting  for  a time  the  artemisia  ( sage ) through  which  we  had  been 
so  long  voyaging,  and  the  sombre  appearance  of  which  is  so  discouraging, 
I have  to  remark,  that  I have  been  informed  that  in  Mexico  wheat  is  grown 
upon  the  ground  which  produces  this  shrub  ; which,  if  true,  relieves  the  soil 
from  the  character  of  sterility  imputed  to  it.  Be  this  as  it  may,  there  is  no 
dispute  about  the  grass,  which  is  almost  universal  on  the  hills  and  moun- 
tains, and  always  nutritious,  even  in  its  dry  state.  We  passed  on  the  way 
masses  of  granite  on  the  slope  of  a spur,  which  was  very  much  weathered 
and  abraded.  This  is  a wThite  feldspathic  granite,  with  small  scales  of 
black  mica ; smoky  quartz  and  garnets  appear  to  constitute  this  portion  of 
the  mountain. 

The  road  at  noon  reached  a broken  ridge,  on  which  were  scattered  many 
boulders  or  blocks  of  granite  ; and,  passing  very  small  streams,  where,  with 
a little  more  than  the  usual  timber,  was  sometimes  gathered  a little  wilder- 
ness of  plants,  we  encamped  on  a small  stream,  after  a march  of  22  miles, 
in  company  with  a fpw  Indians.  Temperature  at  sunset  51° ; and  the  night 
was  partially  clear,  with  a few  stars  visible  through  drifting  white  clouds. 
The  Indians  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  tosteal  a few  horses  from  us — a 
thing  of  course  with  them,  and  to  prevent  which  the  traveller  is  on  per- 
petual watch. 

October  7. — The  day  was  bright,  clear,  and  pleasant,  with  a temperature 
of  45°  ; and  we  breakfasted  at  sunrise,  the  birds  singing  in  the  trees  as 
merrily  as  if  we  were  in  the  midst  of  summer.  On  the  upper  edge  of  the 
hills  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  creek,  the  black  volcanic  rock  reappears  ; 
and  ascending  these,  the  road  passed  through  a basin,  around  which  the 
hills  swept  in  such  a manner  as  to  give  it  the  appearance  of  an  old  crater. 
Here  were  strata  and  broken  beds  of  black  scoriated  rock,  and  hills  com- 
posed of  the  same,  on  the  summit  of  one  of  which  there  was  an  opening  re- 
sembling a rent.  We  travelled  to-day  through  a country  resembling  that 
of  yesterday,  where,  although  the  surface  was  hilly,  the  road  was  good,  be- 
ing firm,  and  entirely  free  from  rocks  and  artemisia.  To  our  left,  below, 
was  the  great  sage  plain  ; and  on  the  right  were  the  near  mountains,  which 
presented  a smoothly  broken  character,  or  rather  a surface  waved  into 
numberless  hills.  The  road  was  occasionally  enlivened  by  meeting  In- 
dians, and  the  day  was  extremely  beautiful  and  pleasant ; and  we  -were 
pleased  to  be  free  from  the  sage,  even  for  a day.  When  we  had  trav- 
elled about  8 miles,  we  were  nearly  opposite  to  the  highest  portion  of  the 
mountains  on  the  left  side  of  the  Smoke  river  valley;  and,  continuing  on  a 
few  miles  beyond,  we  came  suddenly  in  sight  of  the  broad  green  line  of 
the  valley  of  the  Riviere  Bois&e , (wooded  river,)  black  near  the  gorge 
where  it  debouches  into  the  plains,  with  high  precipices  of  basalt,  between 
walls  of  which  it  passes,  on  emerging  from  the  mountains.  Following 
with  the  eye  its  upward  course,  it  appears  to  be  shut  in  among  lofty  moun- 
tains, confining  its  valley  in  a very  rugged  country. 

Descending  the  hills,  after  travelling  a few  miles  along  the  high  plain, 
the  road  brought  us  down  upon  the  bottoms  of  the  river,  which  is  a beau- 
tiful rapid  stream,  with  clear  mountain  water,  and,  as  the  name  indicates, 
well  wooded  with  some  varieties  of  timber — among  which  are  handsome  cot- 
tonwoods. Such  a stream  had  become  quite  a novelty  in  this  country,  and 


173 


C 1^4  1 

we  were  delighted  this  afternoon  to  make  a pleasant  camp  under  fine  old 
trees  again.  There  were  several  Indian  encampments  scattered  along  the 
river;  and  a number  of  their  inhabitants,  in  the  course  of  the  evening, 
came  to  the  camp  on  horseback  with  dried  and  fresh  fish  to  trade.  The 
evening  was  clear,  and  the  temperature  at  sunset  57°. 

At  the  time  of  the  first  occupation  of  this  region  by  parties  engaged  in 

the  fur  trade,  a small  party  of  men  under  the  command  of  Reid, 

constituting  all  the  garrison  of  a little  fort  on  this  river,  were  surprised  and 
massacred  by  the  Indians;  and  to  this  event  the  stream  owes  its  occasional 
name  of  Reid’s  river. 

On  the  8th  we  travelled  about  26  miles,  the  ridge  on  the  right  having 
scattered  pines  on  the  upper  parts;  and,  continuing  the  next  day  our  road 
along  the  river  bottom,  after  a day’s  travel  of  24  miles  we  encamped  in 
the  evening  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  a mile  above  the  mouth,  and 
early  the  next  morning  arrived  at  Fort  Boise.  This  is  a simple  dwelling- 
house  on  the  right  bank  of  Snake  river,  about  a mile  below  the  mouth  of 
Riviere  Boissee ; and  on  our  arrival  we  were  received  with  an  agreeable 
hospitality  by  Mr.  Payette,  an  officer  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  in 
charge  of  the  fort;  all  of  whose  garrison  consisted  in  a Canadian  engage . 

Here  the  road  recrosses  the  river,  wfflich  is  broad  and  deep;  but,  with 
our  good  boat,  aided  by  two  canoes,  which  were  found  at  the  place,  the 
camp  wTas  very  soon  transferred  to  the  left  bank.  Here  we  found  ourselves 
again  surrounded  by  the  sage  ; artemisia  tridentata,  and  the  different  shrubs 
which  during  our  voyage  had  always  made  their  appearance  abundantly 
on  saline  soils,  being  here  the  prevailing  and  almost  the  only  plants. 
Among  them  the  surface  was  covered  with  the  usual  saline  efflorescences, 
which  here  consist  almost  entirely  of  carbonate  of  soda,  w7ith  a small  por- 
tion of  chloride  of  sodium.  Mr.  Payette  had  made  but  slight  attempts  at 
cultivation,  his  efforts  being  limited  to  raising  a few  vegetables,  in  which 
he  succeeded  tolerably  well ; the  post  being  principally  supported  by  sal- 
mon. He  was  very  hospitable  and  kind  to  us,  and  we  made  a sensible  im- 
pression upon  all  his  comestibles ; but  our  principal  inroad  was  into  the 
dairy,  which  was  abundantly  supplied,  stock  appearing  to  thrive  extremely 
well ; and  we  had  an  unusual  luxury  in  a present  of  fresh  butter,  which 
was,  however,  by  no  means  equal  to  that  of  Fort  Hall — probably  from 
some  accidental  cause.  During  the  day  we  remained  here,  there  were 
considerable  numbers  of  miserable  half  naked  Indians  around  the  fort,  who 
had  arrived  from  the  neighboring  mountains.  During  the  summer,  the 
only  subsistence  of  these  people  is  derived  from  the  salmon,  of  which  they 
are  not  provident  enough  to  lay  up  a sufficient  store  for  the  winter,  during 
which  many  of  them  die  from  absolute  starvation. 

Many  little  accounts  and  scattered  histories,  together  with  an  acquaint- 
ance which  I gradually  acquired  of  their  modes  of  life,  had  left  the  abori- 
ginal inhabitants  of  this  vast  region  pictured  in  my  mind  as  a race  of  peo- 
ple whose  great  and  constant  occupation  was  the  means  of  procuring  a sub- 
sistence ; and  though  want  of  space,  and  other  reasons,  will  prevent  me 
from  detailing  the  many  incidents  which  made  these  things  familiar  to  me, 
this  great  feature  among  the  characteristics  of  the  country  will  gradually 
be  forced  upon  your  mind. 

Pointing  to  a group  of  Indians  wfflo  had  just  arrived  from  the  mountains 
on  the  left  side  of  the  valley,  and  who  were  regarding  our  usual  appliances 
of  civilization  with  an  air  of  bewildered  curiosity,  Mr.  Payette  informed  me 


174 


[ 174  ] 

that,  every  year  since  his  arrival  at  this  post,  he  had  unsuccessfully  en- 
deavored to  induce  these  people  to  lay  up  a store  of  salmon  for  their  winter 
provision.  While  the  summer  weather  and  the  salmon  lasted,  they  lived 
contentedly  and  happily,  scattered  along  the  different  streams  where  the 
fish  were  to  be  found  ; and  as  soon  as  the  winter  snows  began  to  fall,  little 
smokes  would  be  seen  rising  among  the  mountains,  where  they  would  be 
found  in  miserable  groups,  starving  out  the  winter ; and  sometimes,  accord- 
ing to  the  general  belief,  reduced  to  the  horror  of  cannibalism — the  strong, 
of  course,  preying  on  the  weak.  Certain  it  is,  they  are  driven  to  any  ex- 
tremity for  food,  and  eat  every  insect,  and  every  creeping  thing,  howrever 
loathsome  and  repulsive.  Snails,  lizards,  ants — all  are  devoured  with  the 
readiness  and  greediness  of  mere  animals. 

In  common  with  all  the  other  Indians  we  had  encountered  since  reach- 
ing the  Pacific  waters,  these  people  use  the  Shoshonee  or  Snake  language, 
which  you  will  have  occasion  to  remark,  in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  is 
the  universal  language  over  a very  extensive  region. 

On  the  evening  of  the  10th,  I obtained,  with  the  usual  observations,  a 
very  excellent  emersion  of  the  first  satellite,  agreeing  very  nearly  with  the 
chronometer.  From  these  observations,  the  longitude  of  the  fort  is  116° 
47'  00"  ; latitude  43°  49'  22",  and  elevation  above  the  sea  2,100  feet. 

Sitting  by  the  fire  on  the  river  bank,  and  waiting  for  the  immersion  of 
the  satellite,  which  did  not  take  place  until  after  midnight,  we  heard  the 
monotonous  song  of  the  Indians,  with  which  they  accompany  a certain 
game  of  which  they  are  very  fond.  Of  the  poetry  we  could  not  judge, 
but  the  music  was  miserable. 

October  11. — The  morning  was  clear,  with  a light  breeze  from  the  east, 
and  a temperature  at  sunrise  of  33°.  A part  of  a bullock  purchased  at  the 
fort,  together  with  the  boat  to  assist  him  in  crossing,  was  left  here  for  Mr. 
Fitzpatrick,  and  at  11  o’clock  we  resumed  our  journey  ; and  directly  leav- 
ing the  river,  and  crossing  the  artemisia  plain,  in  several  ascents  we  reached 
the  foot  of  a ridge,  where  the  road  entered  a dry  sandy  hollow,  up  which 
it  continued  to  the  head  ; and,  crossing  a dividing  ridge,  entered  a similar 
one.  We  met  here  tw7o  poor  emigrants, ( Irishmen,)  who  had  lost  their  horses 
two  days  since — probably  stolen  by  the  Indians;  and  were  returning  to  the 
fort,  in  hopes  to  hear  something  of  them  there.  They  had  recently  had  noth- 
ing to  eat ; and  I halted  to  unpack  an  animal,  and  gave  them  meat  for  their 
dinner.  In  this  hollow,  the  artemisia  is  partially  displaced  on  the  hill  sides 
by  grass;  and  descending  it  — miles,  about  sunset  we  reached  the  Riviere 
aux  Malheurs , (the  unfortunate  or  unlucky  river,)  a considerable  stream, 
with  an  average  breadth  of  50  feet, and,  at  thistime,  18  inches  depth  of  water. 

The  bottom  lands  were  generally  one  and  a half  mile  broad,  covered 
principally  with  long  dry  grass  ; and  we  had  difficulty  to  find  sufficient 
good  grass  for  the  camp.  With  the  exception  of  a bad  place  of  a few  hun- 
dred yards  long,  which  occurred  in  rounding  a point  of  hill  to  reach  the 
ford  of  the  river,  the  road  during  the  day  had  been  very  good. 

October  12. — The  morning  was  clear  and  calm,  and  the  thermometer  at 
sunrise  23°.  My  attention  was  attracted  by  a smoke  on  the  right  side  of 
the  river,  a little  below  the  ford,  where  I found  on  the  low  bank,  near  the 
water,  a considerable  number  of  hot  springs,  in  which  the  temperature  of 
the  water  was  193°.  The  ground,  which  was  too  hot  for  the  naked  foot, 
was  covered  above  and  below  the  springs  with  an  incrustation  of  common 
salt,  very  white  and  good,  and  fine  grained. 


175 


C 174  ] 

Leading  for  5 miles  up  a broad  dry  branch  of  the  Malheurs  river,  the 
road  entered  a sandy  hollow,  where  the  surface  was  rendered  firm  by  the 
admixture  of  other  rock  ; being  good  and  level  until  arriving  near  the  head 
of  the  ravine,  where  it  became  a little  rocky,  and  we  met  with  a number  of 
sharp  ascents  over  an  undulating  surface.  Crossing  here  a dividing  ridge, 
it  became  an  excellent  road  of  gradual  descent  down  a very  marked  hollow  ; 
in  which,  after  10  miles,  willows  began  to  appear  in  the  dry  bed  of  a head 
of  the  Riviere  aux  Rouleaux , (Birch  river;)  and  descending  7 miles,  we 
found,  at  its  junction  with  another  branch,  a little  water,  not  very  good  or 
abundant,  but  sufficient  in  case  of  necessity  for  a camp.  Crossing  Birch 
river,  we  continued  for  about  4 miles  across  a point  of  hill ; the  country  on 
the  left  being  entirely  mountainous,  with  no  level  spot  to  be  seen  ; whence 
we  descended  to  Snake  river — here  a fine-looking  stream,  with  a large  body 
of  water  and  a smooth  current ; although  we  hear  the  roar,  and  see  below 
us  the  commencement  of  rapids  where  it  enters  among  the  hills.  It  forms 
here  a deep  bay,  with  a low  sand  island  in  the  midst ; and  its  course  among 
the  mountains  is  agreeably  exchanged  for  the  black  volcanic  rock.  The 
weather  during  the  day  had  been  very  bright  and  extremely  hot ; but,  as 
usual,  so  soon  as  the  sun  went  down,  it  was  necessary  to  put  on  overcoats. 

1 obtained  ibis  evening  an  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  first  satel- 
lite, and  our  observations  of  the  evening  place  this  encampment  in  latitude 
44°  17'  36  ',  and  longitude  116°  56'  45",  which  is  the  mean  of  the  results 
from  the  satellite  and  chronometer.  The  elevation  above  the  sea  1,880 
feet.  At  this  encampment,  the  grass  is  scanty  and  poor. 

October  13. — The  morning  was  bright,  with  the  temperature  at  sunset 
28°.  The  horses  had  strayed  off  during  the  night,  probably  in  search  of 
grass  ; and,  after  a considerable  delay,  we  had  succeeded  in  finding  all  but 
two,  when,  about  9 o’clpck,  we  heard  the  sound  of  an  Indian  song  and 
drum  approaching;  and  shortly  after,  three  Cayuse  Indians  appeared  in 
sight,  bringing  with  them  the  two  animals.  They  belonged  to  a party 
which  had  been  on  a buffalo  hunt  in  the  neighboihood  of  the  Rocky  moun- 
tains, and  were  hurrying  home  in  advance.  We  presented  them  writh 
some  tobacco,  and  other  things,  with  which  they  appeared  well  satisfied, 
and,  moderating  their  pace,  travelled  in  company  with  us. 

We  were  now  about  to  leave  the  valley  of  the  great  southern  branch  of 
the  Columbia  river,  to  which  the  absence  of  timber,  and  the  scarcity  of 
water,  give  the  appearance  of  a desert,  to  enter  a mountainous  region  where 
the  soil  is  good,  and  in  which  the  face  of  the  country  is  covered  with  nutri- 
tious grasses  and  dense  forest — land  embracing  many  varieties  of  trees  pe- 
culiar to  the  country,  and  on  which  the  timber  exhibits  a luxuriance  of 
growth  unknown  to  the  eastern  part  of  the  continent  and  to  Europe.  This 
mountainous  region  connects  itself  in  the  southward  and  westward  with 
the  elevated  country  belonging  to  the  Cascade  or  California  range  ; and, 
as  will  be  remarked  in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  forms  the  eastern  limit  of 
the  fertile  and  timbered  lands  along  the  desert  and  mountainous  region  in- 
cluded within  the  Great  Basin — a term  which  I apply  to  the  intermediate 
region  between  the  Rocky  mountains  and  the  next  range,  containing  many 
lakes,  with  their  own  system  of  rivers  and  creeks,  (of  which  the  Great  Salt 
is  the  principal, ) and  which  have  no  connexion  with  the  ocean,  or  the  great 
rivers  which  flow  into  it.  This  Great  Basin  is  yet  to  be  adequately  explored. 
And  here,  on  quitting  the  banks  of  a sterile  river,  to  enter  on  arable  moun- 
tains, the  remark  may  be  made,  that,  on  this  western  slope  of  our  continent, 


176 


[ 174  ] 

the  usual  order  or  distribution  of  good  and  bad  soil  is  often  reversed  ; the 
river  and  creek  bottoms  being  often  sterile,  and  darkened  with  the  gloomy 
and  barren  artemisia  ; while  the  mountain  is  often  fertile,  and  covered 
with  rich  grass,  pleasant  to  the  eye,  and  good  for  flocks  and  herds. 

Leaving  entirely  the  Snake  river,  which  is  said  henceforth  to  pursue  its 
course  through  canons,  amidst  rocky  and  impracticable  mountains,  where 
there  is  no  possibility  of  travelling  with  animals,  we  ascended  a long  and 
somewhat  steep  hill ; and  crossing  the  dividing  ridge,  came  down  into  the 
valley  of  Burnt  river,  which  here  looks  like  a hole  among  the  hills.  The 
average  breadth  of  the  stream  here  is  30  feet;  it  is  well  fringed  with  the 
usual  small  timber;  and  the  soil  in  the  bottoms  is  good,  with  better  grass 
than  we  had  lately  been  accustomed  to  see. 

We  now  travelled  through  a very  mountainous  country;  the  stream  run- 
ning rather  in  a ravine  than  a valley,  and  the  road  is  decidedly  bad  and 
dangerous  for  single  wagons,  frequently  crossing  the  stream  where  the 
water  is  sometimes  deep;  and  all  the  day  the  animals  w'ere  fatigued  in 
climbing  up  and  descending  a succession  of  steep  ascents,  to  avoid  the  pre- 
cipitous hill  sides;  and  the  common  trail,  which  leads  along  the  mountain 
side  at  places  where  the  river  strikes  the  base,  is  sometimes  bad  even  for 
a horseman.  The  mountains  along  this  day’s  journey  were  composed,  near 
the  river,  of  a slaty  calcareous  rock  in  a metamorphic  condition.  It  ap- 
pears originally  to  have  been  a slaty  sedimentaiy  limestone,  but  its  pres- 
ent condition  indicates  that  it  has  been  altered,  and  has  become  partially 
crystalline — probably  from  the  proximity  of  volcanic  rocks.  But  though 
travelling  was  slow  and  fatiguing  to  the  animals,  we  were  delighted  with 
the  appearance  of  the  country,  which  was  green  and  refreshing  after  our 
tedious  journey  dowrn  the  parched  valley  of  Snake  river.  The  mountains 
were  covered  with  good  bunch  grass,  (festuca  ;)  the  water  of  the  streams 
was  cold  and  pure ; their  bottoms  were  handsomely  wooded  with  various 
kinds  of  trees  ; and  huge  and  lofty  and  picturesque  precipices  were  dis- 
played where  the  river  cut  through  the  mountains. 

We  found  in  the  evening  some  good  grass  and  rushes;  and  encamped 
among  large  timber,  principally  birch,  which  had  been  recently  burnt  and 
blackened,  and  almost  destroyed  by  fire.  The  night  was  calm  and  tolera- 
bly clear,  with  the  thermometer  at  sunset  at  59°.  Our  journey  to-day  was 
about  20  miles. 

October  14. — The  day  wTas  clear  and  calm,  with  a temperature  at  sunrise 
of  46°.  After  travelling  about  three  miles  up  the  valley,  we  found  the 
river  shut  up  by  precipices  in  a kind  of  canon,  and  the  road  makes  a cir- 
cuit over  the  mountains.  In  the  afternoon  we  reached  the  river  again,  by 
another  little  ravine ; and,  after  travelling  along  it  for  a few  miles,  left  it 
enclosed  among  rude  mountains;  and,  ascending  a smaller  branch,  en- 
camped on  it  about  5 o’clock,  very  much  elevated  above  the  valley.  The 
viewr  was  every  where  limited  by  mountains,  on  which  were  no  longer  seen 
the  black  and  barren  rocks,  but  a fertile  soil,  w7ith  excellent  grass,  and 
partly  well  covered  with  pine.  I have  never  seen  a wagon  road  equally 
bad  in  the  same  space,  as  this  of  yesterday  and  to-day.  I noticed  where 
one  wagon  had  been  overturned  twice,  in  a very  short  distance ; and  it 
w7as  surprising  to  me  that  those  wagons  which  were  in  the  rear,  and  could 
not  have  had  much  assistance,  got  through  at  all.  Still,  there  is  no  mud; 
and  the  road  has  one  advantage,  in  being  perfectly  firm.  The  day  had 
been  warm  and  very  pleasant,  and  the  night  was  perfectly  clear. 


177 


[ 174  ]' 

October  15. — The  thermometer  at  daylight  was  42°,  and  at  sunrise  40°; 
clouds,  which  were  scatterred  over  all  the  sky,  disappeared  with  the  rising 
sun.  The  trail  did  not  much  improve  until  we  had  crossed  the  dividing 
grounds  between  the  Bruli  (Burnt)  and  Powder  rivers.  The  rock  dis- 
played on  the  mountains,  as  we  approached  the  summit,  was  a compact 
trap,  decomposing  on  the  exposed  surfaces,  and  apparently  an  altered  ar- 
gillaceous sandstone,  containing  small  crystalline  nodules  of  anolcime,  ap- 
parently filling  cavities  originally  existing.  From  the  summit  here,  the 
whole  horizon  shows  high  mountains  ; no  high  plain  or  level  is  to  be  seen; 
and  on  the  left,  from  south  around  by  the  west  to  north,  the  mountains  are 
black  with  pines;  while,  through  the  remaining  space  to  the  eastward, 
they  are  bald  with  the  exception  of  some  scattered  pines.  You  will  re- 
mark that  we  are  now  entering  a region  where  all  the  elevated  parts  are 
covered  with  dense  and  heavy  forests.  From  the  dividing  grounds  we 
descended  by  a mountain  road  to  Powder  river,  on  an  old  bed  of  which  we 
encamped.  Descending  from  the  summit,  we  enjoyed  a picturesque  view 
of  high  rocky  mountains  on  the  right,  illuminated  by  the  setting  sun. 

From  the  heights  we  had  looked  in  vain  for  a well-known  landmark  on 
Powder  river,  which  had  been  described  to  me-  by  Mr.  Payette  as  Varbre 
seul , (the  lone  tree  ;)  and,  on  arriving  at  the  river,  we  found  a fine  tall  pine 
stretched  on  the  ground,  wl*ch  had  been  felled  by  some  inconsiderate 
emigrant  axe.  It  had  been  a beacon  on  the  road  for  many  years  past. 
Our  Cayuses  had  become  impatient  to  reach  their  homes,  and  travelled  on 
ahead  to-day;  and  this  afternoon  we  were  visited  by  several  Indians,  who 
belonged  to  the  tribes  on  the  Columbia.  They  were  on  horseback,  and 
were  out  on  a hunting  exclusion,  but  had  obtained  no  better  game  than  a 
large  gray  hare,  of  which  each  had  some  six  or  seven  hanging  to  his  sad- 
dle. We  were  also  visited  by  an  Indian  who  had  his  lodge  and  family  in 
the  mountain  to  the  left.  He  was  in  want  of  ammunition,  and  brought 
with  him  a beaver  skin  to  exchange,  and  which  he  valued  at  six  charges 
of  powder  and  ball.  I learned  from  him  that  there  are  very  few  of  these 
animals  remaining  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

The  temperature  at  sunset  was  61°,  and  the  evening  clear.  I obtained, 
with  other  observations,  an  immersion  and  emersion  of  the  third  satellite. 
Elevation  3,100  feet. 

October  16. — For  several  weeks  the  weather  in  the  daytime  has  been 
very  beautiful,  clear,  and  warm ; but  the  nights,  in  comparison,  are  very 
cold.  During  the  night  there  was  ice  a quarter  of  an  inch  thick  in  the 
lodge  ; and  at  daylight  the  thermometer  was  at  1 6°,  and  the  same  at  sun- 
rise; the  weather  being  calm  and  clear.  The  annual  vegetation  now  is 
nearly  gone,  almost  all  the  plants  being  out  of  bloom. 

Last  night  two  of  our  horses  had  run  off  again,  which  delayed  us  until 
noon ; and  we  made  to  day  but  a short  journey  of  13  miles,  the  road  being 
very  good,  and  encamped  in  a fine  bottom  of  Powder  river. 

The  thermometer  at  sunset  was  at  61°,  with  an  easterly  wind,  and  par- 
tially clear  sky ; and  the  day  has  been  quite  pleasant  and  warm,  though 
more  cloudy  than  yesterday ; and  the  sun  was  frequently  faint,  but  it  grew 
finer  and  clearer  towards  evening. 

October  17. — Thermometer  at  sunrise  25°.  The  weather  at  daylight 
was  fine,  and  the  sky  without  a cloud  ; but  these  came  up,  or  were  formed 
with  the  sun,  and  at  7 were  thick  over  all  the  sky.  Just  now,  this  appears 
to  be  the  regular  course — clear  and  brilliant  during  the  night,  and  cloudy 

12 


178 


[ 174  ] 

during  the  day.  There  is  snow  yet  visible  in  the  neighboring  mountains* 
which  yesterday  extended  along  our  route  to  the  left,  in  a lofty  and  dark- 
blue  range,  having  much  the  appearance  of  the  Wind  river  mountains. 
It  is  probable  that  they  have  received  their  name  of  the  Blue  mountains 
from  the  dark-blue  appearance  given  to  them  by  the  pines.  We  travelled 
this  morning  across  the  affluents  to  Powder  river,  the  road  being  good,  firm* 
and  level ; and  the  country  became  constantly  more  pleasant  and  interest- 
ing. The  soil  appeared  to  be  very  deep,  and  is  black  and  extremely  good* 
as  well  among  the  hollows  of  the  hills  on  the  elevated  plats,  as  on  the  river 
bottoms ; the  vegetation  being  such  as  is  usually  found  in  good  ground. 
The  following  analytical  result  shows  the  precise  qualities  of  this  soil,  and 
will  justify  to  science  the  character  of  fertility  which  the  eye  attributes . 
to  it  : 


Analysis  of  Powder  river  soil. 


Silica  - 

- 

- 

- 

. 

72.30 

Alumina  - 

- 

- 

- 

- 

6.25 

Carbonate  of  lime 

. 

- 

- 

- 

6.80 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  - 

- 

- 

- 

- 

4.62 

Oxide  of  iron 

- 

- 

• - 

- 

1.20 

Organic  matter 

- 

- 

- 

4.50 

Water  and  loss 

4.27 

100.00 

From  the  waters  of  this  stream,  the  road  ascended  by  a good  and  moderate 
ascent  to  a dividing  ridge,  but  immediately  entered  upon  ground  covered 
with  fragments  of  an  altered  siliceous  slate,  which  are  in  many  places  large, 
and  render  the  road  racking  to  a carriage.  In  this  rock  the  planes  of 
deposition  are  distinctly  preserved,  andt  he  metamorphism  is  evidently  due 
to  the  proximity  of  volcanic  rocks.  On  either  side,  the  mountains  here  are 
densely  covered  with  tall  and  handsome  trees ; and,  mingled  with  the  green 
of  a variety  of  pines,  is  the  yellow  of  the  European  larch  ( pinus  larix ,) 
which  loses  its  leaves  in  the  fall.  From  its  present  color,  we  were  enabled 
to  see  that  it  forms  a large  proportion  of  the  forests  on  the  mountains,  and 
is  here  a magnificent  tree,  attaining  sometimes  the  height  of  200  feet,  which 
I believe  is  elsewhere  unknown.  About  two  in  the  afternoon  we  reached 
a high  point  of  the  dividing  ridge,  from  which  we  obtained  a good  view  of 
the  Grand  Rond — a beautiful  level  basin,  or  mountain  valley,  covered  with 
good  grass,  on  a rich  soil,  abundantly  watered,  and  surrounded  by  high 
and  well-timbered  mountains;  and  its  name  descriptive  of  its  form — the 
great  circle.  It  is  a place — one  of  the  few  we  have  seen  in  our  journey  so 
far — where  a farmer  would  delight  to  establish  himself,  if  he  were  content 
to  live  in  the  seclusion  which  it  imposes.  It  is  about  20  miles  in  diameter; 
and  may,  in  time,  form  a superb  county.  Probably  with  the  view  of  avoid- 
ing a circuit,  the  wagons  had  directly  descended  into  the  Rond  by  the  face 
of  a hill  so  very  rocky  and  continuously  steep  as  to  be  apparently  imprac- 
ticable ; and,  following  down  on  their  trail,  we  encamped  on  one  of  the 
branches  of  the  Grand  Rond  river,  immediately  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  I 
had  remarked,  in  descending,  some  very  white  spots  glistening  on  the  plain, 
and.  going  out  in  that  direction  after  we  had  encamped,  I found  them  to  be 


179 


[ 174  3 

the  bed  of  a dry  salt  lake,  or  marsh,  very  firm  and  bare,  which  was  covered 
thickly  with  a fine  white  powder,  containing  a large  quantity  of  carbonate 
of  soda,  (thirty-three  in  one  hundred  parts.) 

The  old  grass  had  been  lately  burnt  off  from  the  surrounding  hills,  and, 
wherever  the  fire  had  passed,  there  was  a recent  growth  of  strong,  green, 
and  vigorous  grass  ; and  the  soil  of  the  level  prairie,  which  sweeps  directly 
up  to  the  foot  of  the  surrounding  mountains,  appears  to  be  very  rich,  pro- 
ducing flax  spontaneously  and  luxuriantly  in  various  places. 

Analysis  of  the  Grand  Bond  soil.  ■ 

Silica  - 
Alumina  - 

Lime  and  magnesia  - 

Oxide  of  iron  - 

Vegetable  matter,  partly  decomposed 
Water  and  loss  - 
Phosphate  of  lime  - 


The  elevation  of  this  encampment  is  2,940  feet  above  the  sea. 

October  18. — It  began  to  rain  an  hour  before  sunrise,  and  continued  until 
10  o’clock  ; the  sky  entirely  overcast,  and  the  temperature  at  sunrise  48°. 

We  resumed  our  journey  somewhat  later  than  usual,  travelling  in  a 
nearly  north  direction  across  this  beautiful  valley  ; and  about  noon  reached 
a place  on  one  of  the  principal  streams,  where  I had  determined  to  leave 
the  emigrant  trail,  in  the  expectation  of  finding  a more  direct  and  better 
road  across  the  Blue  mountains.  At  this  place  the  emigrants  appeared  to 
have  held  some  consultation  as  to  their  further  route,  and  finally  turned 
directly  off  to  the  left ; reaching  the  foot  of  the  mountain  in  about  three 
miles,  which  they  ascended  by  a hill  as  steep  and  difficult  as  that  by  which 
we  had  yesterday  descended  to  the  Rond.  Quitting,  therefore,  this  road, 
which,  after  a very  rough  crossing,  issues  from  the  mountains  by  the  heads 
of  the  ZJmatilah  river,  we  continued  our  northern  course  across  the  valley, 
following  an  Indian  trail  which  had  been  indicated  to  me  by  Mr.  Payette, 
and  encamped  at  the  northern  extremity  of  the  Grand  Rond,  on  a slough- 
like stream  of  very  deep  water,  without  any  apparent  current.  There  are 
some  pines  here  on  the  low  hills  at  the  creek  ; and  in  the  northwest  corner 
of  the  Rond  is  a very  heavy  body  of  timber,  which  descends  into  the  plain.. 
The  clouds,  which  had  rested  very  low  along  the  mountain  sides  during 
the  day,  rose  gradually  up  in  the  afternoon  ; and  in  the  evening  the  sky 
was  almost  entirely  clear,  with  a temperature  at  sunset  of  47°-  Some  in- 
different observations  placed  the  camp  in  longitude  117°  28'  26",  latitude 
4 5°  26'  47"  ; and  the  elevation  was  2,600  feet  above  the  sea. 

October  19. — This  morning  the  mountains  were  hidden  by  fog;  there  • 
was  a heavy  dew  during  the  night,  in  which  the  exposed  thermometer  at 
daylight  stood  at  32°,  and  at  sunrise  the  temperature  was  35°. 

We  passed  out  of  the  Grand  Rond  by  a fine  road  along  the  creek,  which, 
for  a short  distance,  runs  in  a kind  of  rocky  chasm.  Crossing  a low  point, 
which  was  a little  rocky,  the  trail  conducted  into  the  open  valley  of  the 
stream — a handsome  place  for  farms  ; the  soil,  even  of  the  hills,  being  rich 


70.81 

10.97 

1.38 

2.21 

8.16 

5.46 

1.01 


100.00 


180 


C 174  ] 

and  black.  Passing  through  a point  of  pines,  which  bore  evidences  of 
being  much  frequented  by  the  Indians,  and  in  which  the  trees  were  some- 
times apparently  200  feet  high  and  3 to  7 feet  in  diameter,  we  halted 
for  a few  minutes  in  the  afternoon  at  the  foot  of  the  Blue  mountains,  on 
a branch  of  the  Grand  Rond  river,  at  an  elevation  of  2,700  feet.  Resuming 
our  journey,  we  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  through  an  open 
pine  forest  of  large  and  stately  trees,  among  which  the  balsam  pine  made 
its  appearance  ; the  road  being  good,  with  the  exception  of  one  steep  ascent, 
with  a corresponding  descent,  which  might  both  have  been  easily  avoided 
by  opening  a way  for  a short  distance  through  the  timber.  It  would  have 
been  well  had  we  encamped  on  the  stream  where  we  had  halted  below,  as 
the  night  overtook  us  on  the  mountain,  and  we  were  obliged  to  encamp 
without  water,  and  tie  up  the  animals  to  the  trees  for  the  night.  We  had 
halted  on  a smooth  open  place  of  a narrow  ridge,  which  descended  very 
rapidly  to  a ravine  or  piney  hollow,  at  a considerable  distance  below ; and 
it  was  quite  a pretty  spot,  had  there  been  water  near.  But  the  fires  at 
night  look  very  cheerless  after  a day’s  march,  when  there  is  no  preparation 
for  supper  going  on ; and,  after  sitting  some  time  around  the  blazing  logs, 
Mr.  Preuss  and  Carson,  with  several  others,  volunteered  to  take  the  India 
rubber  buckets  and  go  down  into  the  ravine  in  search  of  water.  It  was  a 
very  difficult  way  in  the  darkness  down  the  slippery  side  of  the  steep  moun- 
tain, and  harder  still  to  climb  about  half  a mile  up  again  ; but  they  found, 
the  water,  and  the  cup  of  coffee  (which  it  enabled  us  to  make)  and  bread 
were  only  enjoyed  with  greater  pleasure. 

At  sunset  the  temperature  was  46°;  the  evening  remarkably  clear;  and 
I obtained  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite,  which  does  not  give  a good  re- 
sult, although  the  observation  was  a very  good  one.  The  chronometric 
longitude  was  117°  28'  34",  latitude  45°  38'  07",  and  we  had  ascended  to 
an  elevation  of  3,830  feet.  It  appeared  to  have  snowed  yesterday  on  the 
mountains,  their  summits  showing  very  white  to-day. 

October  20. — There  was  a heavy  white  frost  during  the  night,  and  at 
sunrise  the  temperature  was  37°. 

The  animals  had  eaten  nothing  during  the  night ; and  we  made  an  early 
start,  continuing  our  route  among  the  pines,  which  were  more  dense  than 
yesterday,  and  still  retained  their  magnificent  size.  The  larches  cluster 
together  in  masses  on  the  sides  of  the  mountains,  and  their  yellow  foliage 
contrasts  handsomely  with  the  green  of  the  balsam  and  other  pines.  After 
a few  miles  we  ceased  to  see  any  pines,  and  the  timber  consisted  of  several 
varieties  of  spruce,  larch,  and  balsam  pine,  which  have  a regularly  conical 
figure.  These  trees  appeared  from  60  to  nearly  200  feet  in  height ; the 
usual  circumference  being  10  to  12  feet,  and  in  the  pines  sometimes  21  feet. 
In  open  places  near  the  summit,  these  trees  became  less  high  and  more 
branching,  the  conical  form  having  a greater  base.  The  instrument  car- 
riage occasioned  much  delay,  it  being  frequently  necessary  to  fell  trees  and 
remove  the  fallen  timber.  The  trail  we  were  following  led  up  a long  spur, 
with  a very  gradual  and  gentle  rise. 

At  the  end  of  three  miles,  we  halted  at  an  open  place  near  the  summit, 
from  which  we  enjoyed  a fine  view  over  the  mountainous  country  where 
we  had  lately  travelled,  to  take  a barometrical  observation  at  the  height  of 
1,760  feet. 

After  travelling  occasionally  through  open  places  in  the  forest,  we  were 
obliged  to  cut  a way  through  a dense  body  of  timber,  from  which  we 


181 


[ 174  ] 

emerged  on  an  open  mountain  side,  where  we  found  a number  of  small 
springs,  and  encamped  after  a day’s  journey  of  10  miles.  Our  elevation 
here  was  5,000  feet. 

October  21. — There  was  a very  heavy  white  frost  during  the  night,  and 
the  thermometer  at  sunrise  was  30°. 

We  continued  to  travel  through  the  forest,  in  which  the  road  was  ren- 
dered difficult  by  fallen  trunks,  and  obstructed  by  many  small  trees,  which 
it  was  necessary  to  cut  down.  But  these  are  only  accidental  difficulties,, 
which  could  easily  be  removed,  and  a very  excellent  road  may  be  had 
through  this  pass,  with  no  other  than  very  moderate  ascents  or  declivities. 
A laborious  day,  which  had  advanced  us  only  six  miles  on  our  road,  brought 
us  in  the  afternoon  to  an  opening  in  the  forest,  in  which  there  was  a fine 
mountain  meadow,  with  good  grass,  and  a large  clear-water  stream — one 
of  the  head  branches  of  the  Umatilah  river.  During  this  day’s  ourney> 
the  barometer  was  broken;  and  the  elevations  above  the  sea,  hereafter  given, 
depend  upon  the  temperature  of  boiling  water.  Some  of  the  white  spruces 
which  I measured  to-day  were  twelve  feet  in  circumference,  and  one  of  the 
larches  ten  ; but  eight  feet  was  the  average  circumference  of  those  measured 
along  the  road.  1 held  in  my  hand  a tape  line  as  I walked  along,  in  order 
to  form  some  correct  idea  of  the  size  of  the  timber.  Their  height  appeared 
to  be  from  100  to  ISO,  and  perhaps  200  feet,  and  the  trunks  of  the  larches 
were  sometimes  100  feet  without  a limb;  but  the  white  spruces  were  gen- 
erally covered  with  branches  nearly  to  the  root.  All  these  trees  have  their 
branches,  particularly  the  lower  ones,  declining. 

October  22. — The  white  frost  this  morning  was  like  snow  on  the  ground ; 
the  ice  was  a quarter  of  an  inch  thick  on  the  creek,  and  the  thermometer  at 
sunrise  was  at  20°.  But,  in  a few  hours,  the  day  became  warm  and  pleas- 
ant, and  our  road  over  the  mountains  was  delightful  and  full  of  enjoyment. 

The  trail  passed  sometimes  through  very  thick  young  timber,  in  which 
there  was  much  cutting  to  be  done  ; but,  after  travelling  a few  miles,  the 
mountains  became  more  bald,  and  we  reached  a point  from  which  there 
was  a very  extensive  view  in  the  northwest.  We  were  here  on  the  western 
verge  of  the  Blue  mountains,  long  spurs  of  which,  very  precipitous  on  either 
side,  extended  down  into  the  valley,  the  waters  of  the  mountain  roaring  be- 
tween them.  On  our  right  was  a mountain  plateau,  covered  with  a dense 
forest;  and  to  the  westward,  immediately  below  us,  was  the  great  Nez 
Perce  (pierced  nose)  prairie,  in  which  dark  lines  of  timber  indicated  the 
course  of  many  affluents  to  a considerable  stream  that  was  seen  pursuing 
its  way  across  the  plain  towards  what  appeared  to  be  the  Columbia  river. 
This  I knew  to  be  the  WalahwaLih  river,  and  occasional  spots  along  its 
banks,  which  resembled  clearings,  were  supposed  to  be  the  mission  or  In- 
dian settlements  ; but  the  weather  was  smoky  and  unfavorable  to  far  views 
with  the  glass.  The  rock  displayed  here  in  the  escarpments  is  a compact 
amorphous  trap,  which  appears  to  constitute  the  mass  of  the  Blue  moun- 
tains in  this  latitude  ; and  all  the  region  of  country  through  which  we  have 
travelled  since  leaving  the  Snake  river  has  been  the  seat  of  violent  and 
extensive  igneous  action.  Along  the  Burnt  river  valley,  the  strata  are  evi- 
dently sedimentary  rocks,  altered  by  the  intrusion  of  volcanic  products, 
which  in  some  instances  have  penetrated  and  essentially  changed  their 
original  condition.  Along  our  line  of  route  from  this  point  to  the  Califor- 
nia mountains,  there  seems  but  little  essential  change.  All  our  specimens 
of  sedimentary  rocks  show  them  to  be  much  altered,  and  volcanic  produc- 
tions appear  to  prevail  throughout  the  whole  intervening  distance. 


182 


[ H4  ] 

The  road  now  led  along  the  mountain  side,  around  heads  of  the  precipi- 
tous ravines  ; and,  keeping  men  ahead  to  clear  a road,  we  passed  alternately 
through  bodies  of  timber  and  small  open  prairies,  and  encamped  in  a large 
meadow,  in  view  of  the  great  prairie  below. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  40°,  and  the  night  was  very  clear  and 
bright.  Water  was  only  to  be  had  here  by  descending  a bad  ravine,  into 
which  we  drove  our  animals,  and  had  much  trouble  with  them,  in  a very 
dose  growth  of  small  pines.  Mr.  Preuss  had  walked  ahead,  and  did  not  get 
mto  camp  this  evening.  The  trees  here  maintained  their  size,  and  one  of  the 
black  spruces  measured  1 5 feet  in  circumference.  In  the  neighborhood  of 
the  camp,  pines  have  reappeared  here  among  the  timber. 

October  23. — The  morning  was  very  clear;  there  had  been  a heavy 
white  frost  during  the  night,  and  at  sunrise  the  thermometer  was  at  31°. 

After  cutting  through  two  thick  bodies  of  timber,  in  which  I noticed  some 
small  trees  of  hemlock  spruce,  ( perusse ,)  the  forest  became  more  open,  and 
we  had  no  longer  any  trouble  to  clear  a way.  The  pines  here  were  11  or  12 
feet  in  circumference,  and  about  1 10  feet  high,  and  appeared  to  love  the  open 
grounds.  The  trail  now  led  along  one  of  the  long  spurs  of  the  mountain, 
descending  gradually  towards  the  plain;  and  after  a few  miles  travelling,  we 
emerged  finally  from  the  forest,  in  full  view  of  the  plain  below,  and  saw 
the  snowy  mass  of  Mount  Hood,  standing  high  out  above  the  surrounding 
country,  at  the  distance  of  180  miles.  The  road  along  the  ridge  was  ex- 
cellent, and  the  grass  very  green  and  good;  the  old  grass  having  been  burnt 
off  early  in  the  autumn.  About  4 o’clock  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  a 
little  bottom  on  the  Walahwalah  river,  where  we  found  Mr.  Preuss,  who 
yesterday  had  reached  this  place,  and  found  himself  too  far  in  advance  of 
the  camp  to  return.  The  stream  here  has  just  issued  from  the  narrow  ra- 
vines, which  are  walled  with  precipices,  in  which  the  rock  has  a brown 
and  more  burnt  appearance  than  above. 

At  sunset  the  thermometer  was  at  48°;  and  our  position  was  in  longitude 
1 18°  00'  39' , and  in  latitude  45°  53'  35". 

The  morning  was  clear,  with  a temperature  at  sunrise  of  24°.  Crossing 
the  river,  we  travelled  over  a hilly  country  with  good  bunch  grass ; the 
river  bottom,  which  generally  contains  the  best  soil  in  other  countries,  being 
here  a sterile  level  of  rock  and  pebbles.  We  had  found  the  soil  in  the  Blue 
mountains  to  be  of  excellent  quality,  and  it  appeared  also  to  be  good  here 
among  the  lower  hills.  Reaching  a little  eminence,  over  which  the  trail 
passed,  we  had  an  extensive  view  along  the  course  of  the  river,  which  was 
divided  and  spread  over  its  bottom  in  a net  work  of  water,  receiving 
several  other  tributaries  from  the  mountains.  There  was  a band  of  several 
hundred  horses  grazing  on  the  hills  about  two  miles  ahead ; and  as  we 
advanced  on  the  road  we  met  other  bands,  which  Indians  were  driving  out 
to  pasture  also  on  the  hills.  True  to  its  general  character,  the  reverse  of 
other  countries,  the  hills  and  mountains  here  were  rich  in  grass,  the  bottoms 
barren  and  sterile. 

In  six  miles  we  crossed  a principal  fork,  below  which  the  scattered  water 
of  the  river  was  gathered  into  one  channel ; and,  passing  on  the  way  sev- 
eral unfinished  houses,  and  some  cleared  patches,  where  corn  and  potatoes 
were  cultivated,  we  reached,  in  about  eight  miles  farther,  the  missionary 
establishment  of  Dr.  Whitman,  which  consisted,  at  this  time,  of  one  adobe 
house — i.  e.  built  of  unburnt  bricks,  as  in  Mexico. 

I found  Dr.  Whitman  absent  on  a visit  to  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia  ; 
but  had  the  pleasure  to  see  a fine-looking  large  family  of  emigrants,  men, 


183 


[ 174  ] 

women,  and  children,  in  robust  health,  all  indemnifying  themselves  for 
previous  scanty  fare,  in  a hearty  consumption  of  potatoes,  which  are  pro- 
duced here  of  a remarkably  good  quality.  We  were  disappointed  in  our 
expectation  of  obtaining  corn  meal  or  flour  at  this  station,  the  mill  belong- 
ing to  the  mission  having  been  lately  burnt  down  ; but  an  abundant  supply 
of  excellent  potatoes  banished  regrets,  and  furnished  a grateful  substitute 
for  bread.  A small  town  of  Nez  Perce  Indians  gave  an  inhabited  and 
even  a populous  appearance  to  the  station ; and,  after  remaining  about  an 
hour,  we  continued  our  route,  and  encamped  on  the  river  about  four  miles 
below,  passing  on  the  way  an  emigrant  encampment. 

Temperature  at  sunset,  49°. 

October  25. — The  weather  was  pleasant,  with  a sunrise  temperature  of 
36°.  Our  road  to-day  had  in  it  nothing  of  interest;  and  the  country  of- 
fered to  the  eye  only  a sandy,  undulating  plain,  through  which  a scantily 
timbered  river  takes  its  course.  We  halted  about  three  miles  above  the 
mouth,  on  account  of  grass ; and  the  next  morning  arrived  at  the  Nez  Perce 
fort,  one  of  the  trading  establishments  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  a 
few  hundred  yards  above  the  junction  of  the  Walahwalah  with  the  Colum- 
bia river.  Here  we  had  the  first  view  of  this  river,  and  found  it  about 
1,200  yards  wide,  and  presenting  the  appearance  of  a fine  navigable  stream. 
We  made  our  camp  in  a little  grove  of  willows  on  the  Walahwalah,  which 
are  the  only  trees  to  be  seen  in  the  neighborhood;  but  were  obliged  to  send 
the  animals  back  to  the  encampment  we  had  left,  as  there  was  scarcely  a 
blade  of  grass  to  be  found.  The  post  is  on  the  bank  of  the  Columbia,  on 
a plain  of  bare  sands,  from  which  the  air  was  literally  filled  with  clouds  of 
dust  and  sand,  during  one  of  the  few  days  we  remained  here ; this  place 
being  one  of  the  several  points  on  the  river  which  are  distinguished  for  pre- 
vailing high  winds,  which  come  from  the  sea.  The  appearance  of  the  post 
and  country  was  without  interest,  except  that  we  here  saw,  for  the  first  time, 
the  great  river  on  which  the  course  of  events  for  the  last  half  century  has 
been  directing  attention  and  conferring  historical  fame.  The  river  is,  in- 
deed, a noble  object,  and  has  here  attained  its  full  magnitude.  About  nine 
miles  above,  and  in  sight  from  the  heights  about  the  post,  is  the  junction  of 
the  two  great  forks  which  constitute  the  main  stream — that  on  which  we 
had  been  travelling  from  Fort  Hall,  and  known  by  the  names  of  Lewis’s 
fork,  Shoshonee,  and  Snake  river;  and  the  North  fork,  which  has  retained 
the  name  of  Columbia,  as  being  the  main  stream. 

We  did  not  go  up  to  the  junction,  being  pressed  for  time  ; but  the  union 
of  two  large  sireams,  coming  one  from  the  southeast,  and  the  other  from  the 
northeast,  and  meeting  in  what  may  be  treated  as  the  geographical  centre  of 
the  Oregon  valley,  thence  doubling  the  volume  of  water  to  the  ocean,  while 
opening  two  great  lines  of  communication  with  the  interior  continent,  con- 
stitutes a feature  in  the  map  of  the  country  which  cannot  be  overlooked ; 
and  it  was  probably  in  reference  to  this  junction  of  waters,  and  these  lines 
of  communication,  that  this  post  was  established.  They  are  important  lines, 
and,  from  the  structure  of  the  country,  must  forever  remain  so — one  of  them 
leading  to  the  South  Pass,  and  to  the  valley  of  the  Mississippi ; the  other 
to  the  pass  at  the  head  of  the  Athabasca  river,  and  to  the  countries  drained 
by  the  waters  of  the  Hudson  Bay.  The  British  fur  companies  now  use 
both  lines ; the  Americans,  in  their  emigration  to  Oregon,  have  begun  to 
follow  the  one  which  leads  towards  the  United  States.  Batteaus  from  tide 
water  ascend  to  the  junction,  and  thence  high  up  the  North  fork,  or  Co- 
lumbia. Land  conveyance  only  is  used  upon  the  line  of  Lewis’s  fork. 


184 


E 174  ] 

To  the  emigrants  to  Oregon,  the  Nez  Perce  is  a point  of  interest,  as  being,, 
to  those  who  choose  it,  the  termination  of  their  overland  journey.  The 
broad  expanse  of  the  river  here  invites  them  to  embark  on  its  bosom ; and 
the  lofty  trees  of  the  forest  furnish  the  means  of  doing  so. 

From  the  South  Pass  to  this  place  is  about  1,000  miles  ; and  as  it  is  about 
the  same  distance  from  that  pass  to  the  Missouri  river  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Kansas,  it  may  be  assumed  that  2,000  miles  is  the  necessary  land  travel  in 
crossing  from  the  United  States  to  the  Pacific  ocean  on  this  line.  From  the 
mouth  of  the  Great  Platte  it  would  be  about  100  miles  less. 

Mr.  McKinley,  the  commander  of  the  post,  received  us  with  great  civili- 
ty ; and  both  to  myself,  and  the  heads  of  the  emigrants  who  were  there  at 
the  time,  extended  the  rites  of  hospitality  in  a comfortable  dinner  to  which 
he  invited  us. 

By  a meridional  altitude  of  the  sun,  the  only  observation  that  the  weather 
permitted  us  to  obtain,  the  mouth  of  the  Walahwalah  river  is  in  latitude 
46°  03’  46";  and,  by  the  road  we  had  travelled,  612  miles  from  Fort  Hall. 
At  the  time  of  our  arrival,  a considerable  body  of  the  emigrants  under  the 
direction  of  Mr . Applegate,  a man  of  considerable  resolution  and  energy,  had 
nearly  completed  the  building  of  a number  of  Mackinaw  boats,  in  which 
they  proposed  to  continue  their  further  voyage  down  the  Columbia.  I had 
seen,  in  descending  the  Walahwalah  river,  a fine  drove  of  several  hundred 
cattle,  which  they  had  exchanged  for  Californian  cattle,  to  be  received  at 
Vancouver,  and  which  are  considered  a very  inferior  breed.  The  other 
portion  of  the  emigration  had  preferred  to  complete  their  journey  by  land 
along  the  banks  of  the  Columbia,  taking  their  stock  and  wagons  with  them. 

Having  reinforced  our  animals  witn  eight  fresh  horses,  hired  from  the 
post,  and  increased  our  stock  of  provisions  with  dried  salmon,  potatoes,  and 
a little  beef,  we  resumed  our  journey  down  the  left  bank  of  the  Columbia, 
being  guided  on  our  road  by  an  intelligent  Indian  boy,  whom  I had  en- 
gaged to  accompany  us  as  far  as  the  Dalles. 

The  sketch  of  a rock  which  we  passed  in  the  course  of  the  morning  is 
annexed,  to  show  the  manner  in  which  the  basaltic  rock,  which  constitutes 
the  geological  formation  of  the  Columbia  valley,  now  presents  itself.  From 
an  elevated  point  over  which  the  road  led,  we  obtained  another  far  view  of 
Mount  Hood,  150  miles  distant.  We  obtained  on  the  river  bank  an  obser- 
vation of  the  sun  at  noon,  which  gave  for  the  latitude  45°  58'  08".  The 
country  to-day  was  very  unprepossessing,  and  our  road  bad ; and  as  we 
toiled  slowly  along  through  deep  loose  sands,  and  over  fragments  of  black 
volcanic  rock,  our  laborious  travelling  was  strongly  contrasted  with  the 
rapid  progress  of  Mr.  Applegate’s  fleet  of  boats,  which  suddenly  came  glid- 
ing swiftly  down  the  broad  river,  which  here  chanced  to  be  tranquil  and 
smooth.  At  evening  we  encamped  on  the  river  bank,  where  there  was 
very  little  grass,  and  less  timber.  We  frequently  met  Indians  on  the  road, 
and  they  were  collected  at  every  favorable  spot  along  the  river. 

October  29. — The  road  continued  along  the  river,  and  in  the  course  of 
the  day  Mount  St.  Helens,  another  snowy  peak  of  the  Cascade  range,  was 
visible.  We  crossed  the  Umatilah  river  at  a fall  near  its  mouth.  This 
stream  is  of  the  same  class  as  the  Walahwalah  river,  with  a bed  of  volcanic 
rock,  in  places  split  into  fissures.  Our  encampment  was  similar  to  that  of 
yesterday;  there  was  very  little  grass,  and  no  wood.  The  Indians  brought 
us  some  pieces  for  sale,  which  were  purchased  to  make  our  fires. 

October  31. — By  observation,  our  camp  is  in  latitude  45°  50'  05",  and 


EWfr  <f  li  Salt 


185 


[ 174  ] 

longitude  11 9°  22'  18".  The  night  has  been  cold,  and  we  have  white 
frost  this  morning,  with  a temperature  at  daylight  of  25°,  and  at  sunrise  of 
24°.  The  early  morning  was  very  clear,  and  the  stars  bright ; but,  as 
usual  since  we  are  on  the  Columbia,  clouds  formed  immediately  with  the 
rising  sun.  The  day  continued  fine,  the  east  being  covered  with  scattered 
clouds,  but  the  west  remaining  clear ; showing  the  remarkable  cone-like 
peak  of  Mount  Hood  brightly  drawn  against  the  sky.  This  was  in  view 
all  day  in  the  southwest,  but  no  other  peaks  of  the  range  were  visible. 
Our  road  was  a bad  one,  of  very  loose  deep  sand.  We  met  on  the  way  a 
party  of  Indians  unusually  well  dressed,  wearing  clothes  of  civilized  texture 
and  form.  They  appeared  intelligent,  and,  in  our  slight  intercourse,  im- 
pressed me  with  the  belief  that  they  possessed  some  aptitude  for  acquiring- 
languages. 

We  continued  to  travel  along  the  river,  the  stream  being  interspersed 
with  many  sand  bars  (it  being  the  season  of  low  water)  and  with  many 
islands,  and  an  apparently  good  navigation.  Small  willows  were  the  only 
wood ; rock  and  sand  the  prominent  geological  feature.  The  rock  of  this 
section  is  a very  compact  and  tough  basalt,  occurring  in  strata  which  have 
the  appearance  of  being  broken  into  fragments,  assuming  the  form  of  co- 
lumnar hills,  and  appearing  always  in  escarpments,  with  the  broken  frag- 
ments strewed  at  the  base  and  over  the  adjoining  country. 

We  made  a late  encampment  on  the  river,  and  used  to-night  purshia 
tridentata  for  fire  wood.  Among  the  rocks  which  formed  the  bank,  was 
very  good  green  grass.  Latitude  45°  44'  23",  longitude  119°  45'  09". 

November  1. — Mount  Hood  is  glowing  in  the  sunlight  this  morning,  and 
the  air  is  pleasant,  with  a temperature  of  38°.  We  continued  down  the 
river,  and,  passing  through  a pretty  green  valley,  bounded  by  high  precipi- 
tous rocks,  encamped  at  the  lower  end. 

On  the  right  shore,  the  banks  of  the  Columbia  are  very  high  and  steep ; 
the  river  is  1,690  feet  broad,  and  dark  bluffs  of  rock  give  it  a picturesque 
appearance. 

November  2. — The  river  here  entered  among  bluffs,  leaving  no  longer 
room  for  a road ; and  we  accordingly  left  it,  and  took  a more  inland  way 
among  the  river  hills;  on  which  we  had  no  sooner  entered,  than  we  found 
a great  improvement  in  the  country.  The  sand  had  disappeared,  and  the 
soil  was  good,  and  covered  with  excellent  grass,  although  the  surface  was 
broken  into  high  hills,  with  uncommonly  deep  valleys.  At  noon  we  crossed 
John  Day's  river,  a clear  and  beautiful  stream,  with  a swift  current  and  a 
bed  of  rolled  stones.  It  is  sunk  in  a deep  valley,  which  is  characteristic 
of  all  the  streams  in  this  region ; and  the  hill  we  descended  to  reach  it  well 
deserves  the  name  of  mountain.  Some  of  the  emigrants  had  encamped 
on  the  river,  and  others  at  the  summit  of  the  farther  hill,  the  ascent  of 
which  had  probably  cost  their  wagons  a day's  labor ; and  others  again  had 
halted  for  the  night  a few  miles  beyond,  where  they  had  slept  without 
water.  We  also  encamped  in  a grassy  hollow  without  water;  but  as  we 
had  been  forewarned  of  this  privation  by  the  guide,  the  animals  had  all 
been  watered  at  the  river,  and  we  had  brought  with  us  a sufficient  quantity 
for  the  night. 

November  3. — After  two  hours’  ride  through  a fertile,  hilly  country? 
covered  as  all  the  upland  here  appears  to  be  with  good  green  grass,  we  de- 
scended again  into  the  river  bottom,  along  which  we  resumed  our  sterile 
road,  and  in  about  four  miles  reached  the  ford  of  the  Fall  river,  ( Riviere 


186 


[ 174  ] 

aux  Chutes,)  a considerable  tributary  to  the  Columbia.  We  bad  heard,  on 
reaching  the  Nez  Perce  fort,  a repetition  of  the  account  in  regard  to  the 
unsettled  character  of  the  Columbia  Indians  at  the  present  time ; and  to 
our  little  party  they  had  at  various  points  manifested  a not  very  friendly 
disposition,  in  several  attempts  to  steal  our  horses.  At  this  place  I expected 
to  find  a badly  disposed  band,  who  had  plundered  a party  of  14  emigrant 
men  a few  days  before,  and  taken  away  their  horses  ; and  accordingly  we 
made  the  necessary  preparations  for  our  security,  but  happily  met  with  no 
difficulty. 

The  river  was  high,  divided  into  several  arms,  with  a rocky  island  at  its 
outlet  into  the  Columbia,  which  at  this  place  it  rivalled  in  size,  and  ap- 
parently deserved  its  highly  characteristic  name,  which  is  received  from 
one  of  its  many  falls  some  forty  miles  up  the  river.  It  entered  the  Colum- 
bia with  a roar  of  falls  and  rapids,  and  is  probably  a favorite  fishing  station 
among  the  Indians,  with  whom  both  banks  of  the  river  were  populous ; 
but  they  scarcely  paid  any  attention  to  us.  The  ford  was  very  difficult  at 
this  time,  and,  had  they  entertained  any  bad  intentions,  they  were  offered  a 
good  opportunity  to  carry  them  out,  as  I drove  directly  into  the  river,  and 
during  the  crossing  the  howitzer  was  occasionally  several  feet  under  water, 
and  a number  of  the  men  appeared  to  be  more  often  below  than  above. 
Our  guide  was  well  acquainted  with  the  ford,  and  we  succeeded  in  getting 
every  thing  safe  over  to  the  left  bank.  We  delayed  here  only  a short  time 
to  put  the  gun  in  order,  and,  ascending  a long  mountain  hill,  left  both 
rivers,  and  resumed  our  route  again  among  the  interior  hills. 

The  roar  of  the  Falls  of  the  Columbia  is  heard  from  the  heights,  where 
we  halted  a few  moments  to  enjoy  a fine  view  of  the  river  below.  In  the 
season  of  high  water  it  would  be  a very  interesting  object  to  visit,  in  order 
to  witness  what  is  related  of  the  annual  submerging  of  the  fall  under  the 
waters  which  back  up  from  the  basin  below,  constituting  a great  natural 
lock  at  this  place.  But  time  had  become  an  object  of  serious  consideration  ; 
and  the  Falls,  in  their  present  state,  had  been  seen  and  described  by  many. 

After  a day’s  journey  of  17  miles,  we  encamped  among  the  hills  on  a 
little  clear  stream,  where,  as  usual,  the  Indians  immediately  gathered  round- 
us.  Among  them  was  a very  old  man,  almost  blind  from  age,  with  long 
and  very  white  hair.  I happened  of  my  own  accord  to  give  this  old  man 
a present  of  tobacco,  and  was  struck  with  the  impression  which  my  un- 
propitiated notice  made  on  the  Indians,  who  appeared  in  a remarkable  man- 
ner acquainted  with  the  real  value  of  goods,  and  to  understand  the  equiva- 
lents of  trade.  At  evening,  one  of  them  spoke  a few  words  to  his  people, 
and,  telling  me  that  we  need  entertain  no  uneasiness  in  regard  to  our  ani- 
mals, as  none  of  them  would  be  disturbed,  they  went  all  quietly  away.  In 
the  morning,  when  they  again  came  to  the  camp,  I expressed  to  them  the 
gratification  we  felt  at  their  reasonable  conduct,  making  them  a present  of 
some  large  knives  and  a few  smaller  articles. 

November  4. — The  road  continued  among  the  hills,  and,  reaching  an 
eminence,  we  saw  before  us  in  a little  green  valley,  watered  by  a clear 
stream,  a tolerably  large  valley,  through  which  the  trail  passed. 

In  comparison  with  the  Indians  of  the  Rocky  mountains  and  the  great 
eastern  plain,  these  are  disagreeably  dirty  in  their  habits.  Their  huts  were 
crowded  with  half-naked  women  and  children,  and  the  atmosphere  within 
any  thing  but  pleasant  to  persons  who  had  just  been  riding  in  the  fresh 
morning  air.  We  were  somewhat  amused  with  the  scanty  dress  of  one 


187 


[ 174  ] 

woman,  who,  in  common  with  the  others,  rushed  out  of  the  huts  on  our 
arrival,  and  who,  in  default  of  other  covering,  used  a child  for  a fig  leaf. 

The  road  in  about  half  an  hour  passed  near  an  elevated  point,  from 
which  we  overlooked  the  valley  of  the  Columbia  for  many  miles,  and  saw 
in  the  distance  several  houses  surrounded  by  fields,  which  a chief,  who  had 
accompanied  us  from  the  village,  pointed  out  to  us  as  the  Methodist  mis- 
sionary station. 

In  a few  miles  we  descended  to  the  river,  which  we  reached  at  one  of 
its  remarkably  interesting  features,  known  as  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 
The  whole  volume  of  the  river  at  this  place  passed  between  the  walls  of  a 
chasm,  which  has  the  appearance  of  having  been  rent  through  the  basaltic 
strata  which  form  the  valley  rock  of  the  region.  At  the  narrowest  place 
we  found  the  breadth,  by  measurement,  58  yards,  and  the  average  height 
of  the  walls  above  the  water  25  feet ; forming  a trough  between  the 
rocks — whence  the  name,  probably  applied  by  a Canadian  voyageur.  The 
mass  of  water,  in  the  present  low  state  of  the  river,  passed  swiftly  between, 
deep  and  black,  and  curled  into  many  small  whirlpools  and  counter  cur- 
rents, but  unbroken  by  foam,  and  so  still  that  scarcely  the  sound  of  a ripple 
was  heard.  The  rock,  for  a considerable  distance  from  the  river,  was 
worn  over  a large  portion  of  its  surface  into  circular  holes  and  well-like 
cavities,  by  the  abrasion  of  the  river,  which,  at  the  season  of  high  waters, 
is  spread  out  over  the  adjoining  bottoms. 

In  the  recent  passage  through  this  chasm,  an  unfortunate  event  had  oc- 
curred to  Mr.  Applegate’s  party,  in  the  loss  of  one  of  their  boats,  which  had 
been  carried  under  water  in  the  midst  of  the  Dalles , and  two  of  Mr.  Ap- 
plegate’s children  and  one  man  drowned.  This  misfortune  was  attributed 
only  to  want  of  skill  in  the  steersman,  as  at  this  season  there  is  no  impedi- 
ment to  navigation  ; although  the  place  is  entirely  impassable  at  high  water, 
when  boats  pass  safely  over  the  great  falls  above,  in  the  submerged  state 
in  which  they  then  find  themselves. 

The  basalt  here  is  precisely  the  same  as  that  which  constitutes  the  rock 
of  the  valley  higher  up  the  Columbia,  being  very  compact,  with  a few 
round  cavities. 

We  passed  rapidly  three  or  four  miles  down  the  level  valley,  and  en- 
camped near  the  mission.  The  character  of  the  forest  growth  here 
changed,  and  we  found  ourselves,  with  pleasure,  again  among  oaks  and 
other  forest  trees  of  the  east,  to  which  we  had  long  been  strangers;  and  the 
hospitable  and  kind  reception  with  which  we  were  welcomed  among  our 
country  people  at  the  mission  aided  the  momentary  illusion  of  home. 

Two  good-looking  wooden  dwelling  houses,  and  a large  school  house, 
with  stables,  barn,  and  garden,  and  large  cleared  fields  between  the  houses 
and  the  river  bank,  on  which  were  scattered  the  wooden  huts  of  an  Indian 
village,  gave  to  the  valley  the  cheerful  and  busy  air  of  civilization,  and  had 
in  our  eyes  an  appearance  of  abundant  and  enviable  comfort. 

Our  land  journey  found  here  its  western  termination.  The  delay  in- 
volved in  getting  our  camp  to  the  right  bank  of  the  Columbia,  and  in  open- 
ing a road  through  the  continuous  forest  to  Vancouver,  rendered  a journey 
along  the  river  impracticable ; and  on  this  side  the  usual  road  across  the 
mountain  required  strong  and  fresh  animals,  there  being  an  interval  of 
three  days  in  which  they  could  obtain  no  food.  I therefore  wrote  imme- 
diately to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  directing  him  to  abandon  the  carts  at  the  Walah- 
walah  missionary  station,  and,  as  soon  as  the  necessary  pack  saddles  could 


188 


[ 174  ] 

be  made,  which  his  party  required,  meet  me  at  the  Dalles,  from  which  point 
I proposed  to  commence  our  homeward  journey.  The  day  after  our  ar- 
rival being  Sunday,  no  business  could  be  done  at  the  mission;  but  on 
Monday  Mr.  Perkins  assisted  me  in  procuring  from  the  Indians  a large  ca- 
noe, in  which  I designed  to  complete  our  journey  to  Vancouver,  where  I 
expected  to  obtain  the  necessary  supply  of  provisions  and  stores  for  our 
winter  journey.  Three  Indians,  from  the  family  to  whom  the  canoe  be- 
longed, were  engaged  to  assist  in  working  her  during  the  voyage,  and,  with 
them,  our  water  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself,  with  Bernier  and 
Jacob  Dodson.  In  charge  of  the  party  which  was  to  remain  at  the  Dalles 
I left  Carson,  with  instructions  to  occupy  the  people  in  making  pack  saddles 
and  refitting  their  equipage.  The  village  from  which  we  were  to  take  the 
canoe  was  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  about  ten  miles  below,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Tinanens  creek;  and  while  Mr.  Preuss  proceeded  down  the 
river  with  the  instruments,  in  a little  canoe  paddled  by  two  Indians,  Mr. 
Perkins  accompanied  me  with  the  remainder  of  the  party  by  land.  The 
last  of  the  emigrants  had  just  left  the  Dalles  at  the  time  of  our  arrival,  trav- 
elling some  by  water  and  others  by  land,  making  ark-like  rafts,  on  which 
they  had  embarked  their  families  and  household,  with  their  large  wagons 
and  other  furniture,  while  their  stock  were  driven  along  the  shore. 

For  about  five  miles  below  the  Dalles,  the  river  is  narrow,  and  probably 
very  deep  ; but  during  this  distance  it  is  somewhat  open,  with  grassy  bot- 
toms on  the  left.  Entering,  then,  among  the  lower  mountains  of  the  Cas- 
cade range,  it  assumes  a general  character,  and  high  and  steep  rocky  hills 
shut  it  in  on  either  side,  rising  abruptly  in  places  to  the  height  of  1,50Q 
feet  above  the  water,  and  gradually  acquiring  a more  mountainous  char- 
acter as  the  river  approaches  the  Cascades. 

After  an  hour’s  travel,  when  the  sun  was  nearly  down,  we  searched  along 
the  shore  for  a pleasant  place,  and  halted  to  prepare  supper.  We  had  been 
well  supplied  by  our  friends  at  the  mission  with  delicious  salted  salmon, 
which  had  been  taken  at  the  fattest  season  ; also,  with  potatoes,  bread,  cof- 
fee, and  sugar.  We  were  delighted  at  a change  in  our  mode  of  travelling 
and  living.  The  canoe  sailed  smoothly  down  the  river:  at  night  we  en- 
camped upon  the  shore,  and  a plentiful  supply  of  comfortable  provisions 
supplied  the  first  of  wants.  We  enjoyed  the  contrast  which  it  presented  to 
our  late  toilsome  marchings,  our  night  watchings,  and  our  frequent  priva- 
tion of  food.  We  were  a motley  group,  but  all  happy:  three  unknown  In- 
dians; Jacob,  a colored  man;  Mr.  Preuss,  a German;  Bernier,  creole 
French  ; and  myself. 

Being  now  upon  the  ground  explored  by  the  South  Sea  expedition  under 
Captain  Wilkes,  and  having  accomplished  the  object  of  uniting  my  survey 
with  his,  and  thus  presenting  a connected  exploration  from  the  Mississippi 
to  the  Pacific,  and  the  winter  being  at  hand,  I deemed  it  necessary  to  econ- 
omize time  by  voyaging  in  the  night,  as  is  customary  here,  to  avoid  the 
high  winds,  which  rise  with  the  morning,  and  decline  with  the  day. 

Accordingly,  after  an  hour’s  halt,  we  again  embarked,  and  resumed  our 
pleasant  voyage  down  the  river.  The  wind  rose  to  a gale  after  several 
hours ; but  the  moon  was  very  bright,  and  the  wind  was  fair,  and  the  canoe 
glanced  rapidly  down  the  stream,  the  waves  breaking  into  foam  alongside; 
and  our  night  voyage,  as  the  wind  bore  us  rapidly  along  between  the  dark 
mountains,  was  wild  and  interesting.  About  midnight  we  put  to  the  shore 
on  a rocky  beach,  behind  which  was  a dark-looking  pine  forest.  We  built 

\ 


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up  large  fires  among  the  rocks,  which  were  in  large  masses  round  about ; 
and,  arranging  our  blankets  on  the  most  sheltered  places  we  could  find, 
passed  a delightful  night. 

After  an  early  breakfast,  at  daylight  we  resumed  our  journey,  the  weather 
being  clear  and  beautiful,  and  the  river  smooth  and  still.  On  either  side 
the  mountains  are  all  pine-timbered,  rocky,  and  high.  We  were  now  ap- 
proaching one  of  the  marked  features  of  the  lower  Columbia,  where  the 
river  forms  a great  cascade , with  a series  of  rapids,  in  breaking  through  the 
range  of  mountains  to  which  the  lofty  peaks  of  Mount  Hood  and  St.  Helens 
belong,  and  which  rise  as  great  pillars  of  snow  on  either  side  of  the  passage. 
The  main  branch  of  the  Sacramento  river,  and  the  Tlamath , issue  in  cas- 
cades from  this  range  ; and  the  Columbia,  breaking  through  it  in  a succes- 
sion of  cascades,  gives  the  idea  of  cascades  to  the  whole  range  ; and  hence 
the  name  of  the  Cascade  Range,  which  it  bears,  and  distinguishes  it  from 
the  Coast  Range  lower  down.  In  making  a short  turn  to  the  south,  the  river 
forms  the  cascades  in  breaking  over  a point  of  agglomerated  masses  of  rock, 
leaving  a handsome  bay  to  the  right,  with  several  rocky  pine-covered 
islands,  and  the  mountains  sweep  at  a distance  around  a cove  where  several 
small  streams  enter  the  bay.  In  less  than  an  hour  we  halted  on  the  left 
bank,  about  five  minutes’  walk  above  the  cascades,  where  there  were  several 
Indian  huts,  and  where  our  guides  signified  it  \?as  customary  to  hire  Indians 
to  assist  in  making  the  portage . When  travelling  with  a boat  as  light  as 
a canoe,  which  may  easily  be  carried  on  the  shoulders  of  the  Indians,  this 
is  much  the  better  side  of  the  river  for  the  portage,  as  the  ground  here  is 
very  good  and  level,  being  a handsome  bottom,  which  I remarked  was 
covered  (as  was  now  always  the  case  along  the  river)  with  a growth  of 
green  and  fresh-looking  grass.  It  was  long  before  we  could  come  to  an  un- 
derstanding with  the  Indians  ; but  at  length,  when  they  had  first  received 
the  price  of  their  assistance  in  goods,  they  went  vigorously  to  work;  and, 
in  a shorter  time  than  had  been  occupied  in  making  our  arrangements, 
the  canoe,  instruments,  and  baggage,  were  carried  through  (a  distance  of 
about  half  a mile)  to  the  bank  below  the  main  cascade,  where  we  again  em- 
barked, the  water  being  white  with  foam  among  ugly  rocks,  and  boiling 
into  a thousand  whirlpools.  The  boat  passed  with  great  rapidity,  crossing 
and  recrossing  in  the  eddies  of  the  current.  After  passing  through  about  2 
miles  of  broken  water,  we  ran  some  wild-looking  rapids,  which  are  called 
the  Lower  Rapids,  being  the  last  on  the  river,  which  below  is  tranquil  and 
smooth — a broad,  magnificent  stream.  On  a low  broad  point  on  the  right 
bank  of  the  river,  at  the  lower  end  of  these  rapids,  were  pitched  many 
tents  of  the  emigrants,  who  were  waiting  here  for  their  friends  from  above, 
or  for  boats  and  provisions  which  were  expected  from  Vancouver.  In  our 
passage  down  the  rapids,  I had  noticed  their  camps  along  the  shore,  or 
transporting  their  goods  across  the  portage.  This  portage  makes  a head 
of  navigation,  ascending  the  river.  It  is  about  two  miles  in  length;  anl 
above,  to  the  Dalles,  is  45  miles  of  smooth  and  good  navigation. 

We  glided  on  without  further  interruption  between  very  rocky  and  high 
steep  mountains,  which  sweep  along  the  river  valley  at  a little  distance, 
covered  with  forests  of  pine,  and  showing  occasionally  lofty  escarpments  of 
red  rock.  Nearer,  the  shore  is  bordered  by  steep  escarped  hills  and  huge 
vertical  rocks,  from  which  the  waters  of  the  mountain  reach  the  river  in  a 
variety  of  beautiful  falls,  sometimes  several  hundred  feet  in  height.  Occa- 
sionally along  the  river  occurred  pretty  bottoms,  covered  with  the  greenest 


190 


[ 174  ] 

verdure  of  the  spring.  To  a professional  farmer,  however,  it  does  not  offer 
many  places  of  sufficient  extent  to  be  valuable  for  agriculture;  and  after 
passing  a few  miles  below  the  Dalles,  I had  scarcely  seen  a place  on  the 
south  shore  where  wagons  could  get  to  the  river.  The  beauty  of  the 
scenery  was  heightened  by  the  continuance  of  very  delightful  weather,  re- 
sembling the  Indian  summer  of  the  Atlantic.  A few  miles  below  the  cas- 
cades we  passed  a singular  isolated  hill ; and  in  the  course  of  the  next  six 
miles  occurred  five  very  pretty  falls  from  the  heights  on  the  left  bank,  one 
of  them  being  of  a very  picturesque  character ; and  towards  sunset  we 
reached  a remarkable  point  of  rocks,  distinguished,  on  account  of  prevailing 
high  winds,  and  the  delay  it  frequently  occasions  to  the  canoe  navigation, 
by  the  name  of  Cape  Horn.  It  borders  the  river  in  a high  wall  of  rock, 
which  comes  boldly  down  into  deep  water  ; and  in  violent  gales  down  the 
river,  and  from  the  opposite  shore,  which  is  the  prevailing  direction  of 
strong  winds,  the  water  is  dashed  against  it  with  considerable  violence.  It 
appears  to  form  a serious  obstacle  to  canoe  travelling ; and  I was  informed 
by  Mr.  Perkins,  that  in  a voyage  up  the  river  he  had  been  detained  two 
weeks  at  this  place,  and  was  finally  obliged  to  return  to  Vancouver. 

The  winds  of  this  region  deserve  a particular  study.  They  blow  in  cur- 
rents, which  show  them  to  be  governed  by  fixed  laws;  and  it  is  a problem 
how  far  they  may  come  from  tlTe  mountains,  or  from  the  ocean  through  the 
breaks  in  the  mountains  which  let  out  the  river. 

The  hills  here  had  lost  something  of  their  rocky  appearance,  and  had 
already  begun  to  decline.  As  the  sun  went  down,  we  searched  along  the 
river  for  an  inviting  spot;  and,  finding  a clean  rocky  beach,  where  some 
large  dry  trees  were  lying  on  the  ground,  we  ran  our  boat  to  the  shore ; 
and,  after  another  comfortable  supper,  ploughed  our  way  along  the  river  in 
darkness.  Heavy  clouds  covered  the  sky  this  evening,  and  the  wind  began 
to  sweep  in  gusts  among  the  trees,  as  if  bad  weather  were  coming.  As  we 
advanced,  the  hills  on  both  sides  grew  constantly  lower ; on  the  right,  re- 
treating from  the  shore,  and  forming  a somewhat  extensive  bottom  of  inter- 
mingled prairie  and  wooded  land.  In  the  course  of  a few  hours,  and  op- 
posite to  a small  stream  coming  in  from  the  north,  called  the  Tea  Prairie 
river,  the  highlands  on  the  left  declined  to  the  plains,  and  three  or  four  miles 
below  disappeared  entirely  on  both  sides,  and  the  river  entered  the  low 
country.  The  river  had  gradually  expanded  ; and  when  we  emerged  from 
the  higlands,  the  opposite  shores  were  so  distant  as  to  appear  indistinct  in 
the  uncertainty  of  the  light.  About  10  o’clock  our  pilots  halted,  apparently  to 
confer  about  the  course  ; and,  after  a little  hesitation,  pulled  directly  across 
an  open  expansion  of  the  river,  where  the  waves  were  somewhat  rough  for 
a canoe,  the  wind  blowing  very  fresh.  Much  to  our  surprise,  a few  min- 
utes afterwards  we  ran  aground.  Backing  off  our  boat,  we  made  repeated 
trials  at  various  places  to  cross  what  appeared  to  be  a point  of  shifting  sand 
bars,  where  we  had  attempted  to  shorten  the  way  by  a cut-off.  Finally,  one 
of  our  Indians  got  into  the  water,  and  waded  about  until  he  found  a channel 
sufficiently  deep,  through  which  we  wound  along  after  him,  and  in  a few 
minutes  again  entered  the  deep  water  below.  As  we  paddled  rapidly  down 
the  river,  we  heard  the  noise  of  a saw  mill  at  work  on  the  right  bank ; and, 
letting  our  boat  float  quietly  down,  we  listened  with  pleasure  to  the  unusual 
sounds ; and  before  midnight  encamped  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  about  a 
mile  above  Fort  Vancouver.  Our  fine  dry  weather  had  given  place  to  a 
dark  cloudy  night.  At  midnight  it  began  to  rain  ; and  we  found  ourselves 


191 


[ 174  ] 

suddenly  in  the  gloomy  and  humid  season,  which,  in  the  narrow  region 
lying  between  the  Pacific  and  the  Cascade  mountains,  and  for  a considerable 
distance  along  the  coast,  supplies  the  place  of  winter. 

In  the  morning,  the  first  object  that  attracted  my  attention  was  the  barque 
Columbia,  lying  at  anchor  near  the  landing.  She  was  about  to  start  on  her 
voyage  to  England,  and  was  now  ready  for  sea;  being  detained  only  in 
waiting  the  arrival  of  the  express  batteaus,  which  descend  the  Columbia 
and  its  north  fork  with  the  overland  mail  from  Canada  and  Hudson’s  bay, 
which  had  been  delayed  beyond  their  usual  time.  I immediately  waited 
upon  Dr.  McLaughlin,  the  executive  officer  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company 
in  the  territory  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  who  received  me  with  the 
courtesy  and  hospitality  for  which  he  has  been  eminently  distinguished, 
and  which  makes  a forcible  and  delightful  impression  on  a traveller  from 
the  long  wilderness  from  which  we  had  issued.  I was  immediately  sup- 
plied by  him  with  the  necessary  stores  and  provisions  to  refit  and  support 
my  party  in  our  contemplated  winter  journey  to  the  States;  and  also  with 
a Mackinaw  boat  and  canoes,  manned  with  Canadian  and  Iroquois  voya- 
geurs  and  Indians,  for  their  transportation  to  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 
In  addition  to  this  efficient  kindness  in  furnishing  me  with  these  necessary 
supplies,  I received  from  him  a warm  and  gratifying  sympathy  in  the  suf- 
fering which  his  great  experience  led  him  to  anticipate  for  us  in  our  home- 
ward journey,  and  a letter  of  recommendation  and  credit  for  any  officers 
of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  into  whose  posts  we  might  be  driven  by 
unexpected  misfortune. 

Of  course,  the  future  supplies  for  my  party  were  paid  for,  bills  on  the 
Government  of  the  United  States  being  readily  taken;  but  every  hospitable 
attention  was  extended  to  me,  and  I accepted  an  invitation  to  take  a room 
in  the  fort,  “ and  to  make  myself  at  home  while  1 staid.” 

I found  many  American  emigrants  at  the  fort;  others  had  already  crossed 
the  river  into  their  land  of  promise — the  Walahmette  valley.  Others  were 
daily  arriving;  and  all  of  them  had  been  furnished  with  shelter,  so  far  as 
it  could  be  afforded  by  the  buildings  connected  with  the  establishment. 
Necessary  clothing  and  provisions  (the  latter  to  be  afterwards  returned  in 
kind  from  the  produce  of  their  labor)  were  also  furnished.  This  friendly 
assistance  was  of  very  great  value  to  the  emigrants,  whose  families  were 
otherwise  exposed  to  much  suffering  in  the  winter  rains,  which  had  now 
commenced,  at  the  same  time  that  they  were  in  want  of  all  the  common 
necessaries  of  life.  Those  who  had  taken  a water  conveyance  at  the  Nez 
Perce  fort  continued  to  arrive  safely,  with  no  other  accident  than  has  been 
already  mentioned.  The  party  which  had  passed  over  the  Cascade  moun- 
tains were  reported  to  have  lost  a number  of  their  animals;  and  those  who 
had  driven  their  stock  down  the  Columbia  had  brought  them  safely  in,  and 
found  for  them  a ready  and  very  profitable  market,  and  were  already  pro- 
posing to  return  to  the  States  in  the  spring  for  another  supply. 

In  the  space  of  two  days  our  preparations  had  been  completed,  and  we 
were  ready  to  set  out  on  our  return.  It  would  have  been  very  gratifying 
to  have  gone  down  to  the  Pacific,  and,  solely  in  the  interest  and  in  the  love 
of  geography,  to  have  seen  the  ocean  on  the  western  as  well  as  on  the  east- 
ern side  of  the  continent,  so  as  to  give  a satisfactory  completeness  to  the 
geographical  picture  which  had  been  formed  in  our  minds ; but  the  rainy 
season  had  now  regularly  set  in,  and  the  air  was  filled  with  fogs  and  rain, 
which  left  no  beauty  in  any  scenery,  and  obstructed  observations.  The 


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object  of  my  instructions  had  been  entirely  fulfilled  in  having  connected 
our  reconnoissance  with  the  surveys  of  Captain  Wilkes;  and  although  it 
would  have  been  agreeable  and  satisfactory  to  terminate  here  also  our 
ruder  astronomical  observations,  I was  not,  for  such  a reason,  justified  to 
make  a delay  in  waiting  for  favorable  weather. 

Near  sunset  of  the  10th,  the  boats  left  the  fort,  and  encamped  after 
making  only  a few  miles.  Our  flotilla  consisted  of  a Mackinaw  barge  and 
three  canoes — one  of  them  that  in  which  we  had  descended  the  river;  and 
a party  in  all  of  20  men.  One  of  the  emigrants,  Mr.  Burnet,  of  Missouri, 
who  had  left  his  family  and  property  at  the  Dalles,  availed  himself  of  the 
opportunity  afforded  by  the  return  of  our  boats  to  bring  them  down  to 
Vancouver.  This  gentleman,  as  well  as  the  Messrs.  Applegate,  and  others 
of  the  emigrants  whom  I saw,  possessed  intelligence  and  character,  with 
the  moral  and  intellectual  stamina,  as  well  as  the  enterprise,  which  give 
solidity  and  respectability  to  the  foundation  of  colonies. 

November  11. — The  morning  was  rainy  and  misty.  We  did  not  move 
with  the  practised  celerity  of  my  own  camp;  and  it  was  near  9 o’clock 
when  our  motley  crew  had  finished  their  breakfast  and  were  ready  to  start. 
Once  afloat,  however,  they  worked  steadily  and  well,  and  we  advanced  at 
a good  rate  up  the  river ; and  in  the  afternoon  a breeze  sprung  up,  which 
enabled  us  to  add  a sail  to  the  oars.  At  evening  we  encamped  on  a warm- 
looking beach,  on  the  right  bank,  at  the  foot  of  the  high  river  hill,  immedi- 
ately at  the  lower  end  of  Cape  Horn.  On  the  opposite  shore  is  said  to  be 
a singular  hole  in  the  mountain,  from  which  the  Indians  believe  comes  the 
wind  producing  these  gales.  It  is  called  the  Devil’s  hole;  and  the  Indians, 
I was  told,  have  been  resolving  to  send  down  one  of  their  slaves  to  explore 
the  region  below.  At  dark,  the  wind  shifted  into  its  stormy  quarter,  gradu- 
ally increasing  to  a gale  from  the  southwest;  and  the  sky  becoming  clear, 
I obtained  a good  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite;  the  result 
of  which,  being  an  absolute  observation,  I have  adopted  for  the  longitude 
of  the  place. 

November  12. — The  wind  during  the  night  had  increased  to  so  much 
violence,  that  the  broad  river  this  morning  was  angry  and  white ; the 
waves  breaking  with  considerable  force  against  this  rocky  wall  of  the  cape. 
Our  old  Iroquois  pilot  was  unwilling  to  risk  the  boats  around  the  point, 
and  I was  not  disposed  to  hazard  the  stores  of  our  voyage  for  the  delay  of 
a day.  Further  observations  were  obtained  during  the  day,  giving  for  the 
latitude  of  the  place  45°  33'  09";  and  the  longitude,  obtained  from  the 
satellite, is  122°  6'  15". 

November  13. — We  had  a day  of  disagreeable  and  cold  rain;  and,  late, 
in  the  afternoon,  began  to  appr  )ach  the  rapids  of  the  cascades.  There  is 
here  a high  timbered  island  on  the  left  shore,  below  which,  in  descending, 
I had  remarked  in  a bluff  on  the  river  the  extremities  of  trunks  of  trees 
appearing  to  be  imbedded  in  the  rock.  Landing  here  this  afternoon,  I 
found  in  the  lower  part  of  the  escarpment  a stratum  of  coal  and  forest 
trees,  imbedded  between  strata  of  altered  clay  containing  the  remains  of 
vegetables,  the  leaves  of  which  indicate  that  the  plants  were  dicotyledonous. 
Among  these,  the  stems  of  some  of  the  ferns  are  not  mineralized,  but  merely 
charred,  retaining  still  their  vegetable  structure  and  substance;  and  in  this 
condition  a portion  also  of  the  trees  remain.  The  indurated  appearance 
and  compactness  of  the  strata,  as  well,  perhaps,  as  the  mineralized  condi- 
tion of  the  coal,  are  probably  due  to  igneous  action.  Some  portions  of  the 


193 


[ 174  3 

coal  precisely  resemble  in  aspect  the  cannel  coal  of  England,  and,  with  the 
accompanying  fossils,  have  been  referred  to  the  tertiary  formation. 

These  strata  appear  to  rest  upon  a mass  of  agglomerated  rock,  being  but 
a few  feet  above  the  water  of  the  river;  and  over  them  is  the  escarpment 
of  perhaps  eighty  feet,  rising  gradually  in  the  rear  towards  the  mountains. 
The  wet  and  cold  evening,  and  near  approach  of  night,  prevented  me  from 
making  any  other  than  a very  slight  examination. 

The  current  was  now  very  swift,  and  we  were  obliged  to  cordelle  the 
boat  along  the  left  shore,  where  the  bank  was  covered  with  large  masses  of 
rocks.  Night  overtook  us  at  the  upper  end  of  the  island,  a short  distance 
below  the  cascades,  and  we  halted  on  the  open  point.  In  the  mean  time, 
the  lighter  canoes,  paddled  altogether  by  Indians,  had  passed  ahead,  and 
were  out  of  sight.  With  them  was  the  lodge,  which  was  the  only  shelter 
we  had,  with  most  of  the  bedding  and  provisions.  We  shouted,  and  fired 
guns ; but  all  to  no  purpose,  as  it  was  impossible  for  them  to  hear  above 
the  roar  of  the  river;  and  we  remained  all  night  without  shelter,  the  rain 
pouring  down  all  the  time.  The  old  voyageurs  did  not  appear  to  mind  it 
much,  but  covered  themselves  up  as  well  as  they  could,  and  lay  down  on 
the  sand  beach,  where  they  remained  quiet  until  morning.  The  rest  of 
us  spent  a rather  miserable  night;  and,  to  add  to  our  discomfort,  the  inces- 
sant rain  extinguished  our  fires;  and  we  were  glad  when  at  last  daylight 
appeared,  and  we  again  embarked. 

Crossing  to  the  right  bank,  we  cordelied  the  boat  along  the  shore,  there 
being  no  longer  any  use  for  the  paddles,  and  put  into  a little  bay  below  the 
upper  rapids.  Here  we  found  the  lodge  pitched,  and  about  twenty  Indians 
sitting  around  a blazing  fire  within,  making  a luxurious  breakfast  with 
salmon,  bread,  butter,  sugar,  coffee,  and  other  provisions.  In  the  forest,  on 
the  edge  of  the  high  bluff  overlooking  the  river,  is  an  Indian  grave  yard, 
consisting  of  a collection  of  tombs,  in  each  of  which  were  the  scattered 
bones  of  many  skeletons.  The  tombs  were  made  of  boards,  which  were 
ornamented  with  many  figures  of  men  and  animals  of  the  natural  size — 
from  their  appearance,  constituting  the  armorial  device  by  which,  among 
Indians,  the  chiefs  are  usually  known. 

The  masses  of  rock  displayed  along  the  shores  of  the  ravine  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  cascades  are  clearly  volcanic  products.  Between. this 
cove,  which- 1 called  Grave-yard  bay,  and  another  spot  of  smooth  water 
above,  on  the  right,  called  Luders  bay,  sheltered  by  a jutting  point  of  huge 
rocky  masses  at  the  foot  of  the  cascades,  the  shore  along  the  intervening 
rapids  is  lined  with  precipices  of  distinct  strata  of  red  and  variously  colored 
lavas,  in  inclined  positions. 

The  masses  of  rock  forming  the  point  at  Luders  bay  consist  of  a porous 
trap,  or  basalt — a volcanic  product  of  a modern  period.  The  rocks  belong 
to  agglomerated  masses,  which  form  the  immediate  ground  of  the  cascades, 
and  have  been  already  mentioned  as  constituting  a bed  of  cemented  con- 
glomerate rocks  appearing  at  various  places  along  the  river.  Here  they 
are  scattered  along  the  shores,  and  through  the  bed  of  the  river,  wearing 
the  character  of  convulsion,  which  forms  the  impressive  and  prominent 
feature  of  the  river  at  this  place. 

Wherever  we  came  in  contact  with  the  rocks  of  these  mountains,  we 
found  them  volcanic,  which  is  probably  the  character  of  the  range ; and 
at  this  time,  two  of  the  great  snowy  cones,  Mount  Regnier  and  St.  Helens, 
were  in  action.  On  the  23d  of  the  preceding  November,  St.  Helens  had 
• 13 


194 


C 1-4  ] 

scattered  its  ashes,  like  a light  fall  of  snow,  over  the  Dalles  of  the  Colum- 
bia, 50  miles  distant.  A specimen  of  these  ashes  was  given  to  me  by  Mr. 
Brewer,  one  of  the  clergymen  at  the  Dalles. 

The  lofty  range  of  the  Cascade  mountains  forms  a distinct  boundary  be- 
tween the  opposite  climates  of  the  regions  along  its  western  and  eastern 
bases.  On  the  west,  they  present  a barrier  to  the  clouds  of  fog  and  rain 
which  roll  up  from  the  Pacific  ocean  and  beat  against  their  rugged  sides, 
forming  the  rainy  season  of  the  winter  in  the  country  along  the  coast. 
Into  the  brighter  skies  of  the  region  along  their  eastern  base,  this  rainy 
winter  never  penetrates;  and  at  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia  the  rainy 
season  is  unknown,  the  brief  winter  being  limited  to  a period  of  about  two 
months,  during  which  the  earth  is  covered  with  the  slight  snows  of  a 
climate  remarkably  mild  for  so  high  a latitude.  The  Cascade  range  has 
an  average  distance  of  about  130  miles  from  the  sea  coast.  It  extends  far 
both  north  and  south  of  the  Columbia,  and  is  indicated  to  the  distant  ob- 
server, both  in  course  and  position,  by  the  lofty  volcanic  peaks  which  rise 
out  of  it,  and  which  are  visible  to 'an  immense  distance. 

During  several  days  of  constant  rain,  it  kept  our  whole  force  laboriously 
employed  in  getting  our  barge  and  canoes  to  the  upper  end  of  the  cascades. 
The  portage  ground  was  occupied  by  emigrant  families;  their  thin  and  in- 
sufficient clothing,  bare-headed  and  hare-footed  children,  attesting  the 
length  of  their  journey,  and  showing  that  they  had,  in  many  instances,  set 
out  without  a due  preparation  of  what  was  indispensable. 

A gentleman  named  Luders,  a botanist  from  the  city  of  Hamburg,  ar- 
rived at  the  bay  1 have  called  by  his  name  while  we  were  occupied  in  bring- 
ing up  the  boats.  I was  delighted  to  meet  at  such  a place  a man  of  kindred 
pursuits;  but  we  had  only  the  pleasure  of  a brief  conversation,  as  his  canoe, 
under  the  guidance  of  two  Indians,  was  about  to  run  the  rapids;  and  I 
could  not  enjoy  the  satisfaction  of  regaling  him  with  a breakfast,  which, 
after  his  recent  journey,  would  have  been  an  extraordinary  luxury.  All 
of  his  few  instruments  and  baggage  were  in  the  canoe,  and  he  hurried 
around  by  land  to  meet  it  at  the  Grave-yard  bay;  but  he  was  scarcely  out 
of  sight,  when,  by  the  carelessness  of  the  Indians,  the  boat  was  drawn  into 
the  midst  of  the  rapids,  and  glanced  down  the  river,  bottom  up,  with  the 
loss  of  every  thing  it  contained  In  the  natural  concern  I felt  for  his  mis- 
fortune, I gave  to  the  little  cove  the  name  of  Luders  bay. 

November  15. — We  continued  to-day  our  work  at  the  portage. 

About  noon,  the  two  barges  of  the  express  from  Montreal  arrived  at  the 
upper  portage  landing,  which,  for  large  boats,  is  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
river.  They  were  a fine-looking  crew,  and  among  them  I remarked  a fresh- 
looking woman  and  her  daughter,  emigrants  from  Canada.  It  was  satis- 
factory to  see  the  order  and  speed  with  which  these  experienced  watermen 
effected  the  portage,  and  passed  their  boats  over  the  cascades.  They  had 
arrived  at  noon,  and  in  the  evening  they  expected  to  reach  Vancouver. 
These  batfeaus  carry  the  express  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  to  the  high- 
est navigable  point  of  the  north  fork  of  the  Columbia,  whence  it  is  carried 
by  an  overland  party  to  lake  Winipec,  where  it  is  divided — part  going  to 
Montreal,  and  part  to  Hudson  bay.  Thus  a regular  communication  is 
kept  up  between  three  very  remote  points. 

The  Canadian  emigrant  was  much  chagrined  at  the  change  of  climate, 
and  informed  me  that,  only  a few  miles  above,  they  had  left  a country  of 
bright  blue  sky  and  a shining  sun.  The  next  morning  the  upper  parts  of 


195  [ 174  ] 

the  mountains  which  directly  overlook  the  cascades  were  white  with  the 
freshly  fallen  snow,  while  it  continued  to  rain  steadily  below. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  finished  the  portage,  and,  embarking  again, 
moved  a little  distance  up  the  right  bank,  in  order  to  clear  the  smaller  rap- 
ids of  the  cascades,  and  have  a smooth  river  for  the  next  morning. 
Though  we  made  but  a few  miles,  the  weather  improved  immediately ; 
and  though  the  rainy  country  and  the  cloudy  mountains  were  close  behind, 
before  us  was  the  bright  sky ; so  distinctly  is  climate  here  marked  by  a 
mountain  boundary. 

November  17. — We  had  to-day  an  opportunity  to  complete  the  sketch 
of  that  portion  of  the  river  down  which  we  had  come  by  night,  and  of  which 
I will  not  give  a particular  description,  which  the  small  scale  of  our  map 
would  not  illustrate.  Many  places  occur  along  the  river,  where  the  s;umps, 
or  rather  portions  of  the  trunks  of  pine  trees,  are  standing  along  the  shore, 
and  in  the  water,  where  they  may  be  seen  at  a considerable  depth  below 
the  surface,  in  the  beautifully  clear  water.  These  collections  of  dead  trees 
are  called  oi>4he  Columbia  the  submerged  forest,  and  are  supposed  to  have 
been  created  by  the  effects  of  some  con  vulsion  which  formed  the  cascades, 
and  which,  by  damming  up  the  river,  placed  these  trees  under  water  and 
destroyed  them.  But  I venture  to  presume  that  the  cascades  are  older 
than  the  trees;  and  as  these  submerged  forests  occur  at  five  or  six  placesalong 
the  river,  I had  an  opportunity  to  satisfy  myself  that  they  have  been  formed 
by  immense  land  slides  from  the  mountains,  which  here  closely  shut  in  the 
river,  and  which  brought  down  with  them  into  the  river  the  pities  of  the 
mountain.  At  one  place,  on  the  right  bank,  I remarked  a place  where  a 
portion  of  one  of  these  slides  seemed  to  have  planted  itself,  with  all  the 
evergreen  foliage,  and  the  vegetation  of  the  neighboring  hill,  directly 
amidst  the  falling  and  yellow  leaves  of  the  river  trees.  It  occurred  to  me 
that  this  would  have  been  a beautiful  illustration  to  the  eye  of  a botanist. 

Following  the  course  of  a slide,  which  was  very  plainly  marked  along 
the  mountain,  I found  that  in  the  interior  parts  the  trees’ were  in  their  usual 
erect  position ; but  at  the  extremity  of  the  slide  they  were  rocked  about, 
and  thrown  into  a confusion  of  inclinations. 

About  4 o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we  passed  a sandy  bar  in  the  river, 
whence  we  had  an  unexpected  view  of  Mount  Hood,  bearing  directly 
south  by  compass. 

During  the  day  we  used  oar  and  sail,  and  at  night  had  again  a delight- 
ful camping  ground,  and  a dry  place  to  sleep  upon. 

Nove?iiber  18. — The  day  again  was- pleasant  and  bright.  At  10  o'clock 
we  passed  a rock  island,  on  the  right  shore  of  the  river,  which  the  Indians 
use  as  a burial  ground  ; and,  halting  for  a short  time,  about  an  hour  after- 
wards, at  the  village  of  our  Indian  Iriends,  early  in  the  afternoon  we  ar- 
rived again  at  the  Dalles. 

Carson  had  removed  the  camp  up  the  river  a little  nearer  to  the  hills, 
where  the  animals  had  better  grass.  We  found  every  thing  in  good  order, 
and  arrived  just  in  time  to  partake  of  an  excellent  roast  of  California  beef. 
My  friend  Mr.  Gilpin  had  arrived  in  advance  of  the  party.  His  object  in 
visiting  this  country  had  been  to  obtain  correct  information  of  the  Walak- 
jnette  settlements ; and  he  had  reached  this  point  in  his  journey,  highly 
pleased  with  the  country  over  which  lie  had  travelled,  and  with  invigorat- 
ed health.  On  the  following  day  he  continued  his  journey,  in  our  return 
ing  boats,  to  Vancouver. 


196 


[ 174  ] 

The  camp  was  now  occupied  in  making  the  necessary  preparations  for 
our  homeward  journey,  which,  though  homeward,  contemplated  a new 
route,  and  a great  circuit  to  the  south  and  southeast,  and  the  exploration 
of  the  Great  Basin  between  the  Rocky  mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada. 
Three  principal  objects  were  indicated,  by  report  or  by  maps,  as  being  on 
this  route;  the  character  or  existence  of  which  I wished  to  ascertain,  and 
which  I assumed  as  landmarks,  or  leading  points,  on  the  projected  line  of 
return.  The  first  of  these  points  was  the  Tlamath  lake,  on  the  table 
land  between  the  head  of  Fall  river,  which  comes  to  the  Columbia,  and 
the  Sacramento,  which  goes  to  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  ; and  from  which 
lake  a river  of  the  same  name  makes  its  way  westwardly  direct  to  the 
ocean.  This  lake  and  river  are  often  called  Klamet , but  I have  chosen  to 
write  its  name  according  to  the  Indian  pronunciation.  The  position  of 
this  lake,  on  the  line  of  inland  communication  between  Oregon  and  Cali- 
fornia ; its  proximity  to  the  demarcation  boundary  of  latitude  42°;  its  im- 
puted double  character  of  lake,  or  meadow,  according  to  the  season  of 
the  year  ; and  the  hostile  and  warlike  character  attributed  to  the  Indians 
about  it — all  made  it  a desirable  object  to  visit  and  examine.  From  this 
lake  our  course  was  intended  to  be  about  southeast,  to  a reported  lake 
called  Mary’s,  at  some  days’  journey  in  the  Great  Basin;  and  thence, still 
on  southeast,  to  the  reputed  Buenaventura  river,  which  has  had  a place 
in  so  many  maps,  and  countenanced  the  belief  of  the  existence  of  a great 
river  flowing  from  the  Rocky  mountains  to  the  bay  of  San  Francisco. 
From  the  Buenaventura  the  next  point  was  intended  to  be  in  that  section 
of  the  Rocky  mountains  which  includes  the  heads  of  Arkansas  river,  and 
of  the  opposite  waters  of  the  Californian  gulf;  and  thence  down  the  Ar- 
kansas to  Bent’s  fort,  and  home.  This  was  our  projected  line  of  return — 
a great  part  of  it  absolutely  new  to  geographical,  botanical,  and  geological 
science — and  the  subject  of  reports  in  relation  to  lakes,  rivers,  deserts,  and 
savages  hardly  above  the  condition  of  mere  wild  animals,  which  inflamed 
desire  to  know  what  this  terra  incognita  really  contained.  It  was  a se- 
rious enterprise,  at  the  commencement  of  winter,  to  undertake  the  traverse 
of  such  a region,  and  with  a party  consisting  only  of  twenty -five  persons, 
and  they  of  many  nations — American,  French,  German,  Canadian,  Indian, 
and  colored —and  most  of  them  young,  several  being  under  twenty-one 
years  of  age.  All  knew  that  a strange  country  was  to  be  explored,  and 
dangers  and  hardships  to  be  encountered  ; but  no  one  blenched  at  the  pros- 
pect. On  the  contrary,  courage  and  confidence  animated  the  whole  party. 
Cheerfulness,  readiness,  subordination,  prompt  obedience,  characterized  all ; 
nor  did  any  extremity  of  peril  and  privation,  to  which  we  were  afterwards 
exposed,  ever  belie,  or  derogate  from,  the  fine  spirit  of  this  brave  and  gen- 
erous commencement.  The  course  of  the  narrative  will  show  at  what 
point,  and  for  what  reasons,  we  were  prevented  from  the  complete  execu- 
tion of  this  plan,  after  having  made  considerable  progress  upon  it,  and  how 
we  were  forced  by  desert  plains  and  mountain  ranges,  and  deep  snows,  far 
to  the  south  and  near  to  the  Pacific  ocean,  and  along  the  western  base  of 
the  Sierra  Nevada;  where,  indeed,  a new  and  ample  field  of  exploration 
opened  itself  before  us.  For  the  present,  we  must  follow  the  narrative, 
which  will  first  lead  us  south  along  thewalley  of  Fall  river,  and  the  east- 
ern base  of  the  Cascade  range,  to  the  Tlamath  lake,  from  which,  or  its 
margin,  three  rivers  go  in  three  directions — one  west,  to  the  ocean ; another 
north,  to  the  Columbia;  the  third  south,  to  California. 


197 


C J 

Fol  the  support  of  the  party,  I had  provided  at  Vancouver  a supply  of 
provisions  for  not  less  than  three  months,  consisting  principally  of  flour, 
peas,  and  tallow — the  latter  being  used  in  cooking;  and,  in  addition  to  this, 
I had  purchased  at  the  mission  some  California  cattle,  which  were  to  "be 
driven  on  the  hoof.  We  had  104  mules  and  horses— part  of  the  latter  pro- 
cured from  the  Indians  about  the  mission  ;>  and  for  the  sustenance  of  which, 
our  reliance  was  upon  the  grass  which  we  should  find,  and  the  soft  porous 
wood,  which  was  to  be  its  substitute  when  there  was  none. 

Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  with  Mr.  Talbot  and  the  remainder  of  our  party,  arriv- 
ed on  the  21st;  and  the  camp  was  now  closely  engaged  in  the  labor  of 
preparation.  Mr.  Perkins  succeeded  in  obtaining  as  a guide  to  the  Tlamath 
lake  two  Indians — one  of  whom  had  been  there,  and  bore  the  marks  of 
several  wounds  he  had  received  from  some  of  the  Indians  in  the  neighbor- 
hood ; and  the  other  went  along  for  company.  In  order  to  enable  us  to 
obtain  horses,  he  despatched  messengers  to  the  various  Indian  villages  in 
the  neighborhood,  informing  them  that  we  were  desirous  to  purchase,  and 
appointing  a day  for  them  to  bring  them  in. 

We  made,  in  the  mean  time,  several  excursions  in  the  vicinity.  Mr. 
Perkins  walked  with  Mr.  Preuss  and  myself  to  the  heights,  about  nine  miles 
distant,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river,  whence,  in  fine  weather,  an  exten- 
sive view  may  be  had  over  the  mountains,  including  seven  great  peaks  of  the 
Cascade  range  ; but  clouds,  on  this  occasion,  destroyed  the  anticipated  pleas- 
ure, and  we  obtained  bearings  only  to  three  that  were  visible  : Mount  Reg- 
nier,  St.  Helens,  and  Mount  Hood.  On  the  heights,  about  one  mile  south 
of  the  mission,  a very  fine  view  may  be  had  of  Mount  Hood  and  St.  Helens. 
In  order  to  determine  their  positions  with  as  much  accuracy  as  possible, 
the  angular  distances  of  the  peaks  were  measured  with  the  sextant,  at  dif- 
ferent fixed  points  from  which  they  could  be  seen. 

The  Indians  brought  in  their  horses  at  the  appointed  time,  and  we  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  a number  in  exchange  for  goods  ; but  they  were  rela- 
tively much  higher  here,  where  goods  are  plenty  and  at  moderate  prices, 
than  we  had  found  them  in  the  more  eastern  part  of  our  voyage.  Several 
of  the  Indians  inquired  very  anxiously  to  know  if  we  had  any  dollars;  and 
the  horses  we  procured  were  much  fewer  in  number  than  I had  desired, 
and  of  thin,  inferior  quality ; the  oldest  and  poorest  being  those  that  were 
sold  to  us.  These  horses,  as  ever  in  our  journey  you  will  have  occasion  to 
remark,  are  valuable  for  hardihood  and  great  endurance. 

November  24. — At  this  place  one  of  the  men  was  discharged  ; and  at  the 
request  of  Mr.  Perkins,  a Chinook  Indian,  a lad  of  nineteen,  who  was  ex- 
tremely desirous  to  “see  the  whiles,”  and  make  some  acquaintance  with 
our  institutions,  was  received  into  the  party,  under  my  special  charge,  with 
the  understanding  that  I would  again  return  him  to  ins  friends.  He  had 
hved  for  some  time  in  the  household  of  Mr.  Perkins,  and  spoke  a few  words 
of  the  English  language. 

November  25. — We  were  all  up  early,  in  the  excitement  of  turning  to- 
wards home.  The  stars  were  brilliant,  and  the  morning  cold — the  ther- 
mometer at  daylight  26°. 

Our  preparations  had  been  finally  completed,  and  to-day  we  commenced 
our  journey.  The  little  wagon  which  had  hitherto  carried  the  instruments 
I judged  it  necessary  to  abandon;  and  it  was  accordingly  presented  to  the 
mission.  In  all  our  long  travelling,  it  had  never  been  overturned  or  injured 
by  any  accident  of  the  road ; and  the  only  things  broken  were  the  glass 


L 


T t 
i i 


198 


] 

lamps,  and  one  of  the  front  panels,  which  had  been  kicked  out  by  ai/un- 
ruly  Indian  horse.  The  howitzer  was  the  only  wheeled  carriage  now  re- 
maining. We  started  about  noon,  when  the  weather  had  become  dis- 
agreeably cold,  with  flurries  of  snow.  Our  friend  Mr.  Perkins,  whose 
kindkess  had  been  active  and  efficient  during  our  stay,  accompanied  us  sev- 
eral miles  on  our  road;  when  he  bade  us  farewell,  and  consigned  us  to  the 
care  of  our  guides.  Ascending  to  the  uplands  beyond  the  southern  fork  of 
the  Tinaneiis  .creek,  we  found  the  snow  lying  on  the  ground  in  frequent 
patches,  although  the  pasture  appeared  good,  and  the  new  short  grass  was 
fresh  and  green.  We  travelled  over  high,  hilly  land,  and  encamped  on  a 
little  branch  of  Tinanens  creek,  where  there  were  good  grass  and  timber. 
The  southern  bank  was  covered  with  snow,  which  was  scattered  over  the 
bottom;  and  the  little  creek,  its  borders  lined  with  ice,  had  a chilly  and 
wintry  look.  A number  of  Indians  had  accompanied  us  ,so  far  on  our 
road,  and  remained  with  us  during  the  night.  Two  bad-looking  fellows, 
who  were  detected  in  stealing,  were  tied  and  laid  before  the  fire,  and  guard 
mounted  over  them  during  the  night.  The  night  was  cold,  and  partially 
clear. 

November  26. — The  morning  was  cloudy  and  misty,  and  but  a few  stars 
visible.  During  the  night  water  froze  in  the  tents,  and  at  sunrise  the  ther- 
mometer was  at  20°.  Left  camp  at  10  o’clock,  the  road  leading  along  tribu- 
taries of  the  Tinanens,  and  being,  so  far,  very  good.  We  turned  to  the 
right  at  the  fork  of  the  trail,  ascending  by  a steep  ascent  along  a spur  to  the 
dividing  grounds  between  this  stream  and  the  waters  of  Fall  river.  The 
creeks  we  had  passed  were  timbered  principally  with  oak  and  other  de- 
ciduous trees.  Snow  lies  every  where  here  on  the  ground,  and  we  had  a 
slight  fall  during  the  morning : but  towards  noon  the  gray  sky  yielded  to  a 
bright  sun.  This  morning  we  had  a grand  view  of  St.  Helens  and  Reg- 
nier  : the  latter  appeared  of  a conical  form,  and  very  lofty,  leading  the  eye 
far  up  into  the  sky.  The  line  of  the  timbered  country  is  very  distinctly 
marked  here,  the  bare  hills  making  with  it  a remarkable  contrast.  The 
summit  of  the  ridge  commanded  a fine  view  of  the  Taih  prairie,  and  the 
stream  running  through  it,  which  is  a tributary  to  the  Fall  river,  the  chasm 
of  which  is  visible  to  the  right.  A steep  descent  of  a mountain  hill  brought 
us  down  into  the  valley,  and  we  encamped  on  the  stream  after  dark,  guided 
by  the  light  of  fires,  which  some  naked  Indians  belonging  to  a village  on 
the  opposite  side  were  kindling  for  us  on  the  bank.  This  is  a large  branch 
of  the  Fall  river.  There  was  a broad  band  of  thick  ice  some  fifteen  feet 
wide  on  either  bank,  and  the  river  current  is  swift  and  bold.  The  night 
was  cold  and  clear,  and  we  made  our  astronomical  observation  this  even- 
ing with  the  thermometer  at  20°. 

In  anticipation  of  coming  hardship,  and  to  spare  our  horses,  there  was 
much  walking  done  to-day  ; and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  myself  made  the  day’s 
journey  on  foot.  Somewhere  near  the  mouth  of  this  stream  are  the  falls 
from  which  the  river  takes  its  name. 

November  27. — A fine  view  of  Mount  Hood  this  morning  ; a rose-colored 
mass  of  snow,  bearing  S.  85°  W.  by  compass.  The  sky  is  clear,  and  the 
air  cold;  the  thermometer  2°.5  below  zero  ; the  trees  and  bushes  glittering 
white,  and  the  rapid  stream  filled  with  floating  ice. 

St  He  t si  and  the  IVhite  Crane , two  Indian  chiefs  who  had  accompanied 
us  thus  far,  took  their  leave,  and  we  resumed  our  journey  at  10  o’clock. 
We  ascended  by  a steep  hill  from  the  river  bottom,  which  is  sandy,  to  a 


199 


C 174  ] 

volcanic  plain,  around  which  lofty  &lls  sweep  in  a regular  form.  It  is  cut 
up  by  gullies  of  basaltic  rock,  escarpments  of  which  appear  every  w'here  in 
the  hills.  This  plain  is  called  the  Taih  prairie,  and  is  sprinkled  with  some 
scattered  pines.  The  country  is  now  far  more  interesting  to  a traveller 
than  the  route  along  the  Snake  and  Columbia  rivers.  To  our  right  we 
had  always  the  mountains,  from  the  midst  of  whose  dark  pine  forests  the 
isolated  snowy  peaks  were  looking  out  like  giants.  They  served  us  for 
grand  beacons  to  show  the  rate  at  which  we  advanced  in  our  journey.  Mount 
Hood  was  already  becoming  an  old  acquaintance,  and,  when  we  ascended 
the  prairie,  we  obtained  a bearing  to  Mount  Jefferson,  S.  23°  W.  The  In- 
dian superstition  has  peopled  these  lofty  peaks  with  evil  spirits,  and  they 
have  never  yet  known  the  tread  of  a human  foot.  Sternly  drawn  against 
the  sky,  they  look  so  high  and  steep,  so  snowy  and  rocky,  that  it  would 
appear  almost  impossible  to  climb  them;  but  still  a trial  would  have  its 
attractions  for*the  adventurous  traveller.  A small  trail  takes  off  through 
the  prairie,  towards  a low  point  in  the  range,  and  perhaps  there  is  here  a 
pass  into  the  Walahmette  valley.  Crossing  the  plain,  we  descended  by  a 
rocky  hill  into  the  bed  of  a tributary  of  Fall  river,  and  made  an  early  en- 
campment. The  water  was  in  holes,  and  frozen  over,  and  we  were  obliged 
to  cut  through  the  ice  for  the  animals  to  drink.  An  ox,  which  was  rather 
troublesome  to  drive,  was  killed  here  for  food. 

The  evening  was  fine,  the  sky  being  very  clear,  and  I obtained  an  im- 
mersion of  the  third  satellite,  with  a good  observation  of  an  emersion  of 
the  first;  the  latter  of  which  gives  for  the  longitude,  121°  02' 43";  the 
latitude,  by  observation,  being  45°  06'  45".  The  night  was  cold — the  ther- 
mometer during  the  observations  standing  at  9°. 

November  28. — The  sky  was  clear  in  the  morning,  but  suddenly  clouded 
over,  and  at  sunrise  began  to  snow,  with  the  thermometer  at  18°. 

We  traversed  a broken  high  country,  partly  timbered  with  pine,  and 
about  noon  crossed  a mountainous  ridge,  in  which,  from  the  rock  occa- 
sionally displayed,  the  formation  consists  of  compact  lava.  Frequent  tracks 
of  elk  were  visible  in  the  snow.  On  our  right,  in  the  afternoon,  a high 
plain,  partially  covered  with  pine,  extended  about  ten  miles,  to  the  foot  of 
the  Cascade  mountains. 

At  evening  we  encamped  in  a basin  narrowly  surrounded  by  rocky  hills, 
after  a day’s  journey  of  21  miles.  The  surrounding  rocks  are  either  vol- 
canic products,  or  highly  altered  by  volcanic  action,  consisting  of  quartz 
and  reddish-colored  siliceous  masses. 

November  29. — We  emerged  from  the  basin,  by  a narrow  pass,  upon  a 
considerable  branch  of  Fall  river,  running  to  the  eastward  through  a nar- 
row valley.  The  trail,  descending  this  stream,  brought  us  to  a' locality  of 
hot  springs,  which  were  on  either  bank.  Those  on  the  left,  which  were 
formed  into  deep  handsome  basins,  would  have  been  delightful  baths,  if 
the  outer  air  had  not  been  so  keen,  the  thermometer  in  these  being  at  89°. 
There  were  others,  on  the  opposite  side,  at  the  foot  of  an  escarpment,  in 
which  the  temperature  of  the  water  was  134°.  These  waters  deposited 
around  the  spring  a brecciated  mass  of  quartz  and  feldspar,  much  of  it  of  a 
reddish  color. 

We  crossed  the  stream  here,  and  ascended  again  to  a high  plain,  from 
an  elevated  point  of  which  we  obtained  a view  of  six  of  the  great  peaks — 
Mount  Jefferson,  followed  to  the  southward  by  two  others  of  the  same  class; 
and  succeeding,  at  a still  greater  distance  to  the  southward,  were  three  other 


200 


[ 174  ] 

lower  peaks,  clustering  together  in  a branch  ridge.  These,  like  the  great 
peaks,  were  snowy  masses,  secondary  only  to  them  ; and,  from  the  best  ex- 
amination our  time  permitted,  we  are  inclined  to  believe  that  the  range  to 
which  they  belong  is  a branch  from  the  great  chain  which  here  bears  to 
the  westward.  The  trail  during  the  remainder  of  the  day  followed  near 
to  the  large  stream  on  the  left,  which  was  continuously  walled  in  between 
high  rocky  banks.  We  halted  for  the  night  on  a little  by-stream. 

November  30. — Our  journey  to-day  was  short.  Passing  over  a high 
plain,  on  which  were  scattered  cedars,  with  frequent  beds  of  volcanic  rock 
in  fragments  interspersed  among  the  grassy  grounds,  we  arrived  suddenly 
on  the  verge  of  the  steep  and  rocky  descent  to  the  valley  of  the  stream  we 
had  been  following,  and  which  here  ran  directly  across  our  path,  emerging 
from  the  mountains  on  the  right.  You  will  remark  that  the  country  is 
abundantly  watered  with  large  streams,  which  pour  down  from  the  neigh- 
boring range. 

These  streams  are  characterized  by  the  narrow  and  chasm-like  valleys 
in  which  they  run,  generally  sunk  a thousand  feet  below  the  plain.  At 
the  verge  of  this  plain,  they  frequently  commence  in  vertical  precipices  of 
basaltic  rock,  and  which  leave  only  casual  places  at  which  they  can  be 
entered  by  horses.  The  road  across  the  country,  which ‘would  otherwise  be 
very  good,  is  rendered  impracticable  for  wagons  by  these  streams.  There 
is  another  trail  among  the  mountains,  usually  followed  in  the  summer, 
which  the  snows  now  compelled  us  to  avoid ; and  I have  reason  to  believe 
that  this,  passing  nearer  the  heads  of  these  streams,  would  afford  a much 
better  road. 

At  such  places,  the  gun  carriage  was  unlimbered,  and  separately  descend- 
ed by  hand.  Continuing  a few  miles  up  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  we  en- 
camped early  in  an  open  bottom  among  the  pines,  a short  distance  below  a 
lodge  of  Indians.  Here,  along  the  river  the  bluffs  present  escarpments 
seven  or  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  containing  strata  of  a very  fine  porce- 
lain clay,  overlaid,  at  the  height  of  about  five  hundred  feet,  by  a massive 
stratum  of  compact  basalt  one  hundred  feet  in  thickness,  which  again  is  suc- 
ceeded above  by  other  strata  of  volcanic  rocks.  The  clay  strata  are  variously 
colored,  some  of  them  very  nearly  as  white  as  chalk,  and  very  fine  grained. 
Specimens  brought  from  these  have  been  subjected  to  microscopical  exami- 
nation by  Professor  Bailey,  of  West  Point,  and  are  considered  by  hirp  to 
constitute  one  of  the  most  remarkable  deposites  of  fluviatile  .infusoria  on 
record.  While  they  abound  in  genera  and  species  which  are  common  in 
fresh  water,  but  which  rarely  thrive  where  the  water  is  even  brackish,  not 
one  decidedly  marine  form  is  to  be  found  among  them  ; and  their  fresh- 
water origin  is  therefore  beyond  a doubt.  It  is  equally  certain  that  they 
lived  and  died  at  the  situation  where  they  were  found,  as  they  could  scarce- 
ly have  been  transported  by  running  waters  without  an  admixture  of  sandy 
particles;  from  which,  however,  they  are  remarkably  free.  Fossil  infusoria 
of  a fresh-water  origin  had  been  previously  detected  by  Mr.  Bailey  in  speci- 
mens brought  by  Mr.  James  D.  Dana  from  the  tertiary  formation  of  Ore- 
gon. Most  of  the  species  in  those  specimens  differed  so  much  from  those 
now  living  and  known,  that  he  was  led  to  infer  that  they  might  belong  to 
extinct  species,  and  considered  them  also  as  affording  proof  of  an  alterna- 
tion, in  the  formation  from  which  they  were  obtained,  of  fresh  and  salt 
water  deposites,  which,  common  enough  in  Europe,  had  not  hitherto  been 
noticed  in  the  United  States'.  Coming  evidently  from  a locality  entirely 


201 


[ 174  ] 

different,  our  specimens*  show  very  few  species  in  common  with  those 
brought  by  Mr.  Dana,  but  bear  a much  closer  resemblance  to  those  inhab- 
iting the  northeastern  States.  It  is  possible  that  they  are  from  a more,  re- 
cent deposite  ; but  the  presence  of  a few  remarkable  forms  which  are  com- 
mon to  the  two  localities  renders  it  more  probable  that  there  is  no  great 
difference  in  their  age. 

I obtained  here  a good  observation  of  an  emersion  of  the  second  satellite  ; 
but  clouds,  which  rapidly  overspread  the  sky,  prevented  the  usual  number 
of  observations.  Those  which  we  succeeded  in  obtaining  are,  however, 
good  ; and  give  for  the  latitude  of  the  place  44°  35'  23",  and  for  the  longi- 
tude from  the  satellite  121°  10'  25". 

December  1. — A short  distance  above  our  encampment,  we  crossed  this 
river,  which  was  thickly  lined  along  its  banks  with  ice.  In  common  with 
all  these  mountain  streams,  the  water  was  very  clear,  and  the  current  swift. 
It  was  not  every  where  fordable,  and  the  water  was  three  or  four  feet  deep 
at  our  crossing,  and  perhaps  a hundred  feet  wide.  As  was  frequently  the 
case  at  such  places,  one  of  the  mules  got  his  pack,  consisting  of  sugar, 
thoroughly  wet,  and  turned  into  molasses.  One  of  the  guides  informed 
me  that  this  was  a “ salmon  water/1  and  pointed  out  several  ingeniously 
contrived  places  to  catch  the  fish ; among  the  pines  in  the  bottom  I saw  an 
immense  one,  about  twelve  feet  in  diameter.  A steep  ascent  from  the  op- 
posite bank  delayed  us  again  ; and  as,  by  the  information  of  our  guides, 
grass  would  soon  become  very  scarce,  we  encamped  on  the  height  of  land, 
in  a marshy  place  among  the  pines,  where  there  was  an  abundance  of 
grass.  We  found  here  a single  Nez  Perce  family,  who  had  a very  hand- 
some horse  in  their  drove,  which  we  endeavored  to  obtain  in  exchange  for 
a good  cow ; but  the  man  “ had  two  hearts/’  or,  rather,  he  had  one  and  his 
wife  had  another  : she  wanted  the  cow,  but  he  loved  the  horse  too  much  to 
part  with  it.  These  people  attach  great  value  to  cattle,  with  which  they  are 
endeavoring  to  supply  themselves. 

December  2. — In  the  first  rays  of  the  sun,  the  mountain  peaks  this  morn- 
ing presented  a beautiful  appearance,  the  snow  being  entirely  covered  with 
a hue  of  rosy  gold.  We  travelled  to-day  over  a very  stony,  elevated  plain, 
about  which  were  scattered  cedar  and  pine,  and  encamped  on  another  large 
branch  of  Fall  river.  We  were  gradually  ascending  to  a more  elevated 
region,  which  would  have  been  indicated  by  the  rapidly  increasing  quanti- 
ties of  snow  and  ice,  had  we  not  known  it  by  other  means.  A mule  which 
was  packed  with  our  cooking  utensils  wandered  off  among  the  pines  unper- 
ceived, and  several  men  were  sent  back  to  search  for  it. 

December  3. — Leaving  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  with  the  party,  I went  ahead 
with  the  howitzer  and  a few  men,  in  order  to  gain  time,  as -our  progress 
with  the  giun  was  necessarily  slower.  The  country  continued  the  same — 
very  stony,  with  cedar  and  pine ; and  we  rode  on  until  dark,  when  we  en- 
camped on  a hill  side  covered  with  snow,  which  we  used  to-night  for 
water,  as  we  were  unable  to  reach  any  stream. 

December  4. — Our  animals  had  taken  the  back  track,  although  a great 
number  were  hobbled ; and  we  were  consequently  delayed  until  noon. 
Shortly  after  we  had  left  this  encampment,  the  mountain  trail  from  the 

* The  specimens  obtained  at  this  locality  are  designated  in  the  appendix  by  the  Nos.  53,  54,  55, 
56,  57,  58,  59,  60.  The  results  obtained  by  Mr.  Bailey  in  his  examination  of  specimens  from 
the  infusorial  strata,  with  a plate  exhibiting  some  of  the  most  interesting  forms,  will  be  found  im- 
bodied  in  the  appendix. 


202 


C 174  ] 

Dalles  joined  that  on  which  we  were  travelling.  After  passing  for  several 
miles  over  an  artemisia  plain,  the  trail  entered  a beautiful  pine  forest, 
through  which  we  travelled  for  several  hours ; and  about  4 o’clock 
descended  into  the  valley  of  another  large  branch,  on  the  bottom  of  which 
were  spaces  of  open  pines,  with  occasional  meadows  of  good  grass,  in  one 
of  which  we  encamped.  The  stream  is  very  swift  and  deep,  and  about  40 
feet  wide,  and  nearly  half  frozen  over.  Among  the  timber  here,  are  larches 
140  feet  high,  and  over  3 feet  in  diameter.  We  had  to-night  the  rare  sight 
of  a lunar  rainbow. 

December  5. — To-day  the  country  was  all  pine  forest,  and  beautiful 
weather  made  our  journey  delightful.  It  was  too  warm  at  noon  for  winter 
clothes ; and  the  snow,  which  lay  every  where  in  patches  through  the  forest, 
was  melting  rapidly.  After  a few  hours’  ride,  we  came  upon  a fine  stream 
in  the  midst  of  the  forest,  which  proved  to  be  the  principal  branch  of  Fall 
river.  It  was  occasionally  200  feet  wide — sometimes  narrowed  to  50  feet ; 
the  waters  very  clear,  and  frequently  deep.  We  ascended  along  the  river, 
which  sometimes  presented  sheets  of  foaming  cascades ; its  banks  occa- 
sionallyTdackened  with  masses  of  scoriated  rock,  and  found  a good  en- 
campment on  the  verge  of  an  open  bottom,  which  had  been  an  old  camp- 
ing ground  of  the  Cayuse  Indians.  A great  number  of  deer  horns  were 
lying  about,  indicating  game  in  the  neighborhood.  The  timber  was  uni- 
formly large  ; some  of  the  pines  measuring  22  feet  in  circumference  at  the 
ground,  and  12  to  13  feet  at  six  feet  above. 

In  all  our  journeying,  we  had  never  travelled  through  a country  where 
the  rivers  were  so  abounding  in  falls,  and  the  name  of  this  stream  is  singu- 
larly characteristic.  At  every  place  where  we  come  in  the  neighborhood 
of  the  river,  is  heard  the  roaring  of  falls.  The  rock  along  the  banks  of  the 
stream,  and  the  ledge  over  which  it  falls,  is  a scoriated  basalt,  with  a bright 
metallic  fracture.  The  stream  goes  over  in  one  clear  pitch,  succeeded  by 
a foaming  cataract  of  several  hundred  yards.  In  the  little  bottom  above 
the  falls,  a small  stream  discharges  into  an  entonnoir , and  disappears  below. 

We  had  made  an  early  encampment,  and  in  the  course  of  the  evening 
Mr.  Fitzpatrick  joined  us  here  with  the  lost  mule.  Our  lodge  poles  were 
nearly  worn  out,  and  we  found  here  a handsome  set,  leaning  against  one  of 
the  trees,  very  white,  and  cleanly  scraped.  Had  the  owners  been  here,  we 
would  have  purchased  them  ; but  as  they  were  not,  we  merely  left  the  old 
ones  in  their  place,  with  a small  quantity  of  tobacco. 

December  6. — The  morning  was  frosty  and  clear.  We  continued  up* 
the  stream  on  undulating  forest  ground,  over  which  there  was  scattered 
much  fallen  timber.  We  met  here  a village  of  Nez  Perce  Indians,  who 
appeared  to  be  coming  down  from  the  mountains,  and  had  with  them  fine 
bands  of  horses.  With  them  were  a few  Snake  Indians  of  the  root-digging 
species.  From  the  forest  we  emerged  into  an  open  valley  ten  or  twelve 
miles  wide,  through  which  the  stream  was  flowing  tranquilly,  upward  of 
two  hundred  feet  broad,  with  occasional  islands,  and*  bordered  with  fine 
broad  bottoms.  Crossing  the  river,  which  here  issues  from  a great  moun- 
tain ridge  on  the  right,  we  continued  up  the  southern  and  smaller  branch, 
over  a level  country,  consisting  of  fine  meadow  land,  alternating  with  pine 
forests,  and  encamped  on  it  early  in  the  evening.  A warm  sunshine  made 
the  day  pleasant. 

December  7. — To-day  we  had  good  travelling  ground;  the  i rail  leading 
sometimes  over  rather  sandy  soils  in  the  pine  forest,  and  sometimes  over 


203 


[ 1^4  ] 

meadow  land  along  the  stream.  The  great  beauty  of  the  country  in  summer 
constantly  suggested  itself  to  our  imaginations;  and  even  now  we  found  it 
beautiful,  as  we  rode  along  these  meadows,  from  half  a mile  to  two  miles- 
wide.  The  rich  soil  and  excellent  water,  surrounded  by  noble  forests, 
make  a picture  that  would  delight  the  eye  of  a farmer ; and  I regret  that 
the  very  small  scale  of  the  map  would  not  allow  us  to  give  some  repre- 
sentation of  these  features  of  the  country. 

I observed  to-night  an  occultation  of  y G e minor um  ; which,  although  at 
the  bright  limb  of  the  moon,  appears  to  give  a very  good  result,  that  has 
been  adopted  for  the  longitude.  The  occultation,  observations  of  satellites, 
and  our  position  deduced  from  daily  surveys  with  the  compass,  agree  re- 
markably well  together,  and  mutually  support  and  strengthen  each  other. 
The  latitude  of  the  camp  is  43°  30'  36";  and  longitude,  deduced  from  the 
occultation,  121°  33'  50". 

December  8. — To-day  we  crossed  the  last  branch  of  the  Fall  river,  issu- 
ing, like  all  the  others  we  had  crossed,  in  a southwesterly  direction  from  the 
mountains.  Our  direction  was  a little  east  of  south,  the  trail  leading  con- 
stantly through  pine  forests.  The  soil  was  generally  bare,  consisting,  in 
greater  part,  of  a yellowish  white  pumice  stone,  producing  varieties  of 
magnificent  pines,  but  not  a blade  of  grass;  and  to-night  our  horses  were 
obliged  to  do  without  food,  and  use  snow  for  water.  These  pines  are  re- 
markable for  the  red  color  of  the  bolls ; and  among  them  occurs  a species, 
of  which  the  Indians  had  informed  me  when  leaving  the  Dalles.  The  un- 
usual size  of  the  cone  (16  or  18  inches  long)  had  attracted  their  attention; 
and  they  pointed  it  out  to  me  among  the  curiosities  of  the  country.  They 
are  more  remarkable  for  their  large  diameter  than  their  height,  which 
usually  averages  only  about  120  feet.  The  leaflets  are  short — only  two  or 
three  inches  long,  and  five  in  a sheath  ; the  bark  of  a red  color. 

December  9. — The  trail  leads  always  through  splendid  pine  forests. 
Crossing  dividing  grounds  by  a very  fine  road,  we  descended  very  gently 
towards  the  south.  The  weather  was  pleasant,  and  we  halted  late.  The 
soil  was  very  much  like  that  of  yesterday  ; and  on  the  surface  of  a hill, 
near  our  encampment,  were  displayed  beds  of  pumice  stone  ; but  the  soil 
produced  no  grass,  and  again  the  animals  fared  badly. 

December  10. — The  country  began  to  improve  ; and  about  11  o’clock  we 
reached  a spring  of  cold  water  on  the  edge  of  a savannah,  or  grassy  mea- 
dow, which  our  guides  informed  us  was  an  arm  of  the  Tlamath  lake  ; and 
a few  miles  further  we  entered  upon  an  extensive  meadow,  or  lake  of  grass, 
surrounded  by  timbered  mountains.  This  was  the  Tlamath  lake.  It  was 
a picturesque  and  beautiful  spot,  and  rendered  more  attractive  to  us  by  the 
abundant  and  excellent  grass,  which  our  animals,  after  travelling  through 
pine  forests,  so  much  needed;  but  the  broad  sheet  of  water  which  consti- 
tutes a lake  was  not  to  be  seen.  Overlooking  it,  immediately  west,  were 
several  snowy  knobs,  belonging  to  what  we  have  considered  a branch  of 
the  Cascade  range.  A low  point  covered  with  pines  made  out  into  the 
lake,  which  afforded  us  a good  place  for  an  encampment,  and  for  the  secu- 
rity of  our  horses,  which  were  guarded  in  view  on  the  open  meadow.  The 
character  of  courage  and  hostility  attributed  to  the  Indians  of  this  quarter 
induced  more  than  usual  precaution  ; and,  seeing  smokes  rising  from  the 
middle  of  the  lake  (or  savannah)  and  along  the  opposite  shores,  I directed 
the  howitzer  to  be  fired.  It  was  the  first  time  our  guides  had  seen  it  dis- 
charged ; and  the  bursting  of  the  shell  at  a distance,  which  was  something 


204 


[ 174  ] 

like  the  second  fire  of  the  gun,  amazed  and  bewildered  them  with  delight. 
It  inspired  them  with  triumphant  feelings ; but  on  the  camps  at  a distance 
the  effect  was  different,  for  the  smokes  in  the  lake  and  on  the  shores  im- 
mediately disappeared. 

The  point  on  which  we  were  encamped  forms,  with  the  opposite  eastern 
shore,  a narrow  neck,  connecting  the  body  of  the  lake  with  a deep  cove  or 
bay  which  receives  the  principal  affluent  stream,  and  over  the  greater  part 
of  which  the  water  (or  rather  ice)  was  at  this  time  dispersed  in  shallow 
pools.  Among  the  grass,  and  scattered  over  the  prairie  lake,  appeared  to 
be  similar  marshes.  It  is  simply  a shallow  basin,  which,  for  a short  period 
at  the  time  of  melting  snows,  is  covered  with  water  from  the  neighboring 
mountains  ; but  this  probably  soon  runs  off,  and  leaves  for  the  remainder 
of  the  year  a green  savannah,  through  the  midst  of  which  the  river  Tla- 
math,  which  flows  to  the  ocean,  winds  its  way  to  the  outlet  on  the  south- 
western side. 

December  II. — No  Indians  made  their  appearance,  and  I determined  to 
pay  them  a visit.  Accordingly,  the  people  were  gathered  together,  and  we 
rode  out  towards  the  village  in  the  middle  of  the  lake,  which  one  of  our 
guides  had  previously  visited.  It  could  not  be  directly  approached,  as  a 
large  part  of  the  lake  appeared  a marsh  ; and  there  were  sheets  of  ice  among 
the  grass,  on  which  our  horses  could  not  keep  their  footing.  We  therefore 
followed  the  guide  for  a considerable  distance  along  the  forest ; and  then 
turned  off  towards  the  village,  which  we  soon  began  to  see  was  a few  large 
huts,  on  the  tops  of  which  were  collected  the  Indians.  When  we  had  ar- 
rived within  half  a mile  of  the  village,  two  persons  were  seen  advancing 
to  meet  us;  and,  to  please  the  fancy  of  our  guides,  we  ranged  ourselves 
into  a long  line,  riding  abreast,  while  they  galloped  ahead  to  meet  the 
strangers. 

We  were  surprised,  on  riding  up,  to  find  one  of  them  a woman,  having 
never  before  known  a squaw  to  take  any  part  in  the  business  of  war. 
They  were  the  village  chief  and  his  wife,  who,  in  excitement  and  alarm  at 
the  unusual  event  and  appearance,  had  come  out  to  meet  their  fate  together. 
The  chief  was  a very  prepossessing  Indian,  with  very  handsome  features, 
and  a singularly  soft  and  agreeable  voice — so  remarkable  as  to  attract  gen- 
eral notice. 

The  huts  were  grouped  together  on  the  bank  of  the  river,  which,  from 
being  spread  out  in  a shallow  marsh  at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  was  col- 
lected here  into  a single  stream.  They  were  large  round  huts,  perhaps  20 
feet  in  diameter,  with  rounded  tops,  on  which  was  the  door  by  which  they 
descended  into  the  interior.  Within,  they  were  supported  by  posts  and 
beams. 

Almost  like  plants,  these  people  seem  to  have  adapted  themselves  to  the 
soil,  and  to  be  growing  on  what  the  immediate  locality  afforded.  Their 
only  subsistence  at  this  time  appeared  to  be  asmall  fish,  great  quantitiesof 
which,  that  had  been  smoked  and  dried,  were  suspended  on  strings  about 
the  lodge.  Heaps  of  straw  were  lying  around;  and  their  residence  in  the 
midst  of  grass  and  rushes  had  taught  them  a peculiar  skill  in  converting 
this  material  to  useful  purposes.  Their  shoes  were  made  of  straw  or  grass, 
which  seemed  well  adapted  for  a snowy  country  ; and  the  women  wore  on 
their  head  a closely,  woven  basket,  which  made  a very  good  cap.  Among 
other  things,  were  parti-colored  mats  about  four  feet  square,  which  we  pur- 
chased to  lay  on  the  snow  under  our  blankets,  and  to  use  for  table  cloths. 

Numbers  of  singular-looking  dogs,  resembling  wolves,  were  sitting  on 


205 


[ 174  ] 

the  tops  of  the  huts  ; and  of  these  we  purchased  a young  one,  which,  after 
its  birthplace,  was  named  Tlamath.  The  language  spoken  by  these  In- 
dians is  different  from  that  of  the  Shoshonee  and  Columbia  river  tribes ; 
and  otherwise  than  by  sighs  they  cannot  understand  each  other.  They 
made  us  comprehend  that  they  were  at  war  with  the  people  who  lived  to 
the  southward  and  to  the  eastward ; but  I could  obtain  from  them  no  cer- 
tain information.  The  river  on  which  they  live  enters  the  Cascade  moun- 
tains On  the  western  side  of  the  lake,  and  breaks  through  them  by  a pas- 
sage impracticable  for  travellers ; but  over  the  mountains,  to  the  northward, 
are  passes  which  present  no  other  obstacle  than  in  the  almo'st  impenetrable 
forests.  Unlike  any  Indians  we  had  previously  seen,  these  wore  shells  in 
their  noses.  We  returned  to  our  camp,  after  remaining  here  an  hour  or 
two,  accompanied  by  a number  of  Indians. 

In  order  to  recruit  a little  the  strength  of  our  animals,  and  obtain  some 
acquaintance  with  the  locality,  we  remained  here  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  By  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  camp  was  42°  56'  51";  and  the 
diameter  of  the  lake,  or  meadow,  as  has  been  intimated,  about  20  miles. 

It  is  a picturesque  and  beautiful  spot;  and,  under  the  hand  of  cultivation, 
might  become  a little  paradise.  Game  is  found  in  the  forest;  timbered  and 
snowy  mountains  skirt  it,  and  fertility  characterizes  it.  Situated  near  the 
heads  of  three  rivers,  and  on  the  line  of  inland  communication  with  Cali- 
fornia, and  near  to  Indians  noted  for  treachery,  it  will  naturally,  in  the  pro- 
gress of  the  settlement  of  Oregon,  become  a point  for  military  occupation 
and  settlement. 

From  Tlamath  lake,  the  further  continuation  of  our  voyage  assumed  a • 
character  of  discovery  and  exploration,  which,  from  the  Indians  here,  we 
could  obtain  no  information  to  direct,  and  where  the  imaginary  maps  of  the 
country,  instead  of  assisting,  exposed  us  to  suffering  and  defeat.  In  our 
journey  across  the  desert,  Mary’s  lake,  and  the  famous  Buenaventura  river, 
were  two  points  on  which  I relied  to  recruit  the  animals,  and  repose  the 
party.  Forming,  agreeably  to  the  best  maps  in  my  possession,  a connected 
water  line  from  the  Rocky  mountains  to  the  Pacific  ocean,  I felt  no  other 
anxiety  than  to  pass  safely  across  the  intervening  desert  to  the  banks  of  the 
Buenaventura,  where,  in  the  softer  climate  of  a more  southern  latitude, 
our  horses  might  find  grass  to  sustain  them,  and  ourselves  be  sheltered 
from  the  rigors  of  winter  and  from  the  inhospitable  desert.  The  guides 
who  had  conducted  us  thus  far  on  our  journey  were  about  to  return  ; and 
I endeavored  in  vain  to  obtain  others  to  lead  us,  even  for  a few  days,  in 
the  direction  (east)  which  we  wished  to  go.  The  chief  to  whom  I applied 
alleged  the  want  of  horses,  and  the  snow  on  the  mountains  across  which 
our  course  would  carry  us,  and  the  sickness  of  his  family,  as  reasons  for 
refusing  to  go  with  us. 

December  12. — This  morning  the  camp  was  thronged  with  Tlamath 
Indians  from  the  southeastern  shore  of  the  lake;  but,  knowing  the  treach- 
erous disposition  which  is  a remarkable  characteristic  of  the  Indians  south 
of  the  Columbia,  the  camp  was  kept  constantly  on  its  guard.  I was  not 
unmindful  of  the  disasters  which  Smith  and  other  travellers  had  met  with 
in  this  country,  and  therefore  was  equally  vigilant  in  guarding  against 
treachery  and  violence. 

According  to  the  best  information  I had  been  able  to  obtain  from  the  In- 
dians, in  a few  days’  travelling  we  should  reach  another  large  water,  prob- 
ably a lake,  which  they  indicated  exactly  in  the  course  we  were  about  to 


206 


C 174  ] 

pursue.  We  struck  our  tents  at  10  o’clock,  and  crossed  the  lake  in  a nearly 
east  direction,  where  it  has  the  least  extension — the  breadth  of  the  arm 
being  here  only  about  a mile  and  a half.  There  were  ponds  of  ice,  with 
but  little  grass,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  way  ; and  it  was  difficult  to  get 
the  pack  animals  across,  which  fell  frequently,  and  could  not  get  up  with 
their  loads,  unassisted.  The  morning  was  very  unpleasant,  snow  falling  at 
intervals  in  large  flakes,  and  the  sky  dark.  In  about  two  hours  we  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  animals  over  ; and,  after  travelling  another  hour  along 
the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake,  we  turned  up  into  a cove  where  there  was  a 
sheltered  place  among  the  timber,  with  good  grass,  and  encamped.  The 
Indians,  who  had  accompanied  us  so  far,  returned  to  their  village  on  the 
southeastern  shore.  Among  the  pines  here,  I noticed  some  five  or  six 
feet  in  diameter. 

December  13. — The  night  has  been  cold;  the  peaks  around  the  lake 
gleam  out  brightly  in  the  morning  stin,  and  the  thermometer  is  at  zero. 
We  continued  up  the  hollow  formed  by  a small  affluent  to  the  lake,  and 
immediately  entered  an  open  pine  forest  on  the  mountain.  The  way  here 
was  sometimes  obstructed  by  fallen  trees,  and  the  snow  was  four  to  twelve 
inches  deep.  The  mules  at  the  gun  pulled  heavily,  and  walking  was  a 
little  laborious.  In  the  midst  of  the  wood,  we  heard  the  sound  of  galloping 
horses,  and  were  agreeably  surprised  by  the  unexpected  arrival  of  our 
Tlamath  chief,  with  several  Indians.  He  seemed  to  have  found  his  con- 
duct inhospitable  in  letting  the  strangers  depart  without  a guide  through  the 
snow,  and  had  come,  with  a few  others,  to  pilot  us  a day  or  two  on  the  way. 

# After  travelling  in  an  easterly  direction  through  the  forest  for  about  four 
hours,  we  reached  a considerable  stream,  with  a border  of  good  grass.;  and 
here,  by  the  advice  of  our  guides,  we  encamped.  It  is  about  thirty  feet 
wide,  and  two  to  four  feet  deep;  the  water  clear,  with  some  current;  and, 
according  to  the  information  of  our  Indians,  is  the  principal  affluent  to  the 
lake,  and  the  head  water  of  the  Tlamath  river. 

A very  clear  sky  enabled  me  to  obtain  here  to-night  good  observations, 
including  an  emersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter,  which  give  for  the  lon- 
gitude 121°  20'  42",  and  for  the  latitude  42°  5T  26".  This  emersion  coin- 
cides remarkably  well  with  the  result  obtained  from  an  occultation  at  the 
encampment  of  December  7th  to  8th,  1S43  ; from  which  place,  the  line  of  our 
survey  gives  an  easting  of  thirteen  miles.  The  day’s  journey  was  12  miles. 

December  14. — Our  road  was  over  a broad  mountain,  and  we  rode  seven 
hours  in  a thick  snow  storm,  always  through  pine  forests,  when  we  came 
down  upon  the  head  waters  of  another  stream,  on  which  there  was  grass. 
The  snow  lay  deep  on  the  ground,  and  only  the  high  swamp  grass  appeared 
above.  The  Indians  were  thinly  clad,  and  I had  remarked  during  the_day 
that  they  suffered  from  the  cold.  This  evening  they  told  me  that  the  snow 
/was  getting  too  deep  on  the  mountain,  and  I could  not  induce  them  to  go 
any  farther.  The  stream  we  had  struck  issued  from  the  mountain  in  an 
easterly  direction,  turning  to  the  southward  a short  distance  below  ; and, 
drawing  its  course  upon  the  ground,  they  made  us  comprehend  that  it  pur- 
1 its  way  for  a long  distance  in  that  direction,  uniting  with  many  other 
streams,  and  gradually  becoming  a great  river.  Without  the  subsequent 
information,  which  confirmed  the  opinion,  we  became  immediately  satisfied 
that  this  water  formed  the  principal  stream  of  the  Sacramento  river  ; and, 
consequently,  that  this  main  affluent  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  had  its 
source  within  the  limits  of  the  United  States,  and  opposite  a tributary  to  the 


t 


207  [ 174  ] 

Columbia,  and  near  the  head  of  the  Tlamath  river,  which  goes  to  the  ocean 
north  of  42°,  and  within  the  United  States. 

December  15. — A present,  consisting  of  useful  goods, afforded  much  satis- 
faction to  our  guides  ; and,  showing  them  the  national  flag,  I explained  that 
it  was  a symbol  of  our  nation  ; and  they  engaged  always  to  receive  it  in  a 
friendly  manner.  The  chief  pointed  out  a course,  by  following  which  we 
would  arrive  at  the  big  water,  where  no  more  snow  was  to  be  found.  Trav- 
elling in  a direction  N.  60°  E.  by  compass,  which  the  Indians  informed  me 
would  avoid  a bad  mountain  to  the  right,  we  crossed  the  Sacramento  where  it 
turned  to  the  southward,  and  entered  a grassy  level  plain — a smaller  Grand 
Rond ; from  the  lower  end  of  which  the  river  issued  into  an  inviting  country 
of  low  rolling  hills.  Crossing  a hard-frozen  swamp  on  the  farther  side  of 
the  Rond,  we  entered  again  the  pine  forest,  in  which  very  deep  snow  made 
our  travelling  slow  and  laborious.  We  were  slowly  but  gradually  ascend- 
ing a mountain  ; and,  after  a hard  journey  of  seven  hours,  we  came  to  some 
naked  places  among  the  timber,  where  a few  tufts  of  grass  showed  above- 
the  snow,  on  the  side  of  a hollow  ; and  here  we  encamped.  Our  cow,  which 
every  day  got  poorer,  was  killed  here,  but  the  meat  was  rather  tough. 

December  16. — We  travelled  this  morning  through  snow  about  three  feet 
deep,  which,  being  crusted,  very  much  cut  the  feet  of  our  animals.  The 
mountain  still  gradually  rose  ; we  crossed  several  spring  heads  covered  with 
quaking  asp;  otherwise  it  was  all  pine  forest.  The  air  was  dark  with  falling 
snow,  which  every  where  weighed  down  the  trees.  The  depths  of  the  forest 
were  profoundly  still ; and  below,  we  scarce  felt  a breath  of  the  wind  which 
whirled  the  snow  through  their  branches.  I found  that  it  required  some  * 
exertion  of  constancy  to  adhere  steadily  to  one  course  through  the  woods, 
when  we  were  uncertain  how  far  the  forest  extended,  or  what  lay  beyond; 
and,  on  account  of  our  nnimals,  it  would  be  bad  to  spend  another  night  on 
the  mountain.  Towards  noon  the  forest  looked  clear  ahead,  appearing  sud- 
denly to  terminate ; and  beyond  a certain  point  we  could  see  no  trees. 
Riding  rapidly  ahead  to  this  spot,  we  found  ourselves  on  the  verge  of  a ver- 
tical and  rocky  wall  of  the  mountain.  At  our  feet — more  than  a thousand 
feet  below — we  looked  into  a green  prairie  country,  in  which  a beautiful 
lake,  some  twenty  miles  in  length,  was  spread  along  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains, its  shores  bordered  with  green  grass.  Just  then  the  sun  broke  out 
among  the  clouds,  and  illuminated  the  country  below,  while  around  us  the 
storm  raged  fiercely.  Not  a particle  of  ice  was  to  be  seen  on  the  lake,  or 
snow  on  its  borders,  and  all  was  like  summer  or  spring.  The  glow  of  the 
sun  in  the  valley  below  brightened  up  our  hearts  with  sudden  pleasure;  and 
we  made  the  woods  ring  with  joyful  shouts  to  those  behind  ; and  gradually, 
as  each  came  up,  he  stopped  to  enjoy  the  unexpected  scene.  Shivering  on 
snow  three  feet  deep,  and  stiffening  in  a cold  north  wind,  we  exclaimed  at 
once  that  the  names  of  Summer  Lake  and  Winter  Ridge  should  be  applied 
to  these  two  proximate  places  of  such  sudden  and  violent  contrast. 

We  were  now  immediately  on  the  verge  of  the  forest  land,  in  which  we 
had  been  travelling  so  many  days;  and,  looking  forward  to  the  east,  scarce 
a tree  was  to  be  seen.  Viewed  from  our  elevation,  the  face  of  the  country 
exhibited  only  rocks  and  grass,  and  presented  a region  in  which  the  arte- 
misia  became  the  principal  wood,  furnishing  to  its  scattered  inhabitants  fuel 
for  their  fires,  building  material  for  their  huts,  and  shelter  for  the  small 
game  which  ministers  to  their  hunger  and  nakedness.  Broadly  marked  by 
the  boundary  of  the  mountain  wall,  and  immediately  below  us,  were  the 


208 


[ 174  ] 

first  waters  of  that  Great  Interior  Basin  which  has  the  Wahsatch  and  Bear 
river  mountains  for  its  eastern,  and  the  Sierra  Nevada  for -its  western  rim; 
and  the  edge  of  which  we  had  entered  upwards  of  three  months  before,  at 
the  Great  Salt  lake. 

When  we  had  sufficiently  admired  the  scene  below,  we  began  to  think 
about  descending,  which  here  was  impossible,  and  we  turned  towards  the 
north,  travelling  always  along  the  rocky  wall.  We  continued  on  for  four 
or  five  miles,  making  ineffectual  attempts  at  several  places  ; and  at  length 
succeeded  in  getting  down  at  one  which  was  extremely  difficult  of  descent. 
Night  had  closed  in  before  the  foremost  reached  the  bottom,  and  it  was  dark 
before  we  all  found  ourselves  together  in  the  valley.  There  were  three  or 
four  half  dead  dry  cedar  trees  on  the  shore,  and  those  who  first  arrived 
kindled  bright  fires  to  light  on  the  others.  One  of  the  mules  rolled  over 
and  over  two  or  three  hundred  feet  into  a ravine,  but  recovered  himself, 
without  any  other  injury  than  to  his  pack;  and  the  howitzer  was  left  mid- 
way the  mountain  until  morning.  By  observation,  the  latitude  of  this  en- 
campment is  42°  57'  22".  It  delayed  us  until  near  noon  the  next  day  to 
recover  ourselves  and  put  every  thing  in  order  ; and  we  made  only  a short 
camp  along  the  western  shore  of  the  lake,  which,  in  the  summer  tempera- 
ture we  enjoyed  to-day,  justified  the  name  we  had  given  it.  Our  course 
would  have  taken  us  to  the  other  shore,  and  over  the  highlands  beyond  ; 
but  I distrusted  the  appearance  of  the  country,  and  decided  to  follow  a 
plainly  beaten  Indian  trail  leading  along  this  side  of  the  lake.  We  were 
now  in  a country  where  the  scarcity  of  water  and  of  grass  makes  travel- 
ling dangerous,  and  great  caution  was  necessary. 

December  18. — We  continued  on  the  trail  along  the  narrow  strip  of  land 
between  the  lake  and  the  high  rocky  wall,  from  which  we  had  looked  down 
two  days  before.  Almost  every  half  mile  we  crossed  a little  spring,  or 
stream  of  pure  cold  water:  and  the  grass  was  certainly  as  fresh  and  green 
as  in  the  early  spring.  From  the  white  efflorescence  along  the  shore  of 
the  lake,  we  were  enabled  to  judge  that  the  water  was  impure,  like  that 
of  lakes  we  subsequently  found  ; but  the  mud  prevented  us  from  approach- 
ing it.  We  encamped  near  the  eastern  point  of  the  lake,  where  there  ap- 
peared between  the  hills  a broad  and  low  connecting  hollow  with  the 
country  beyond.  From  a rocky  hill  in  the  rear,  I could  see,  marked  out 
by  a line  of  yellow  dried  grass,  the  bed  of  a stream,  which  probably  con- 
nected the  lake  with  other  waters  in  the  spring. 

The  observed  latitude  of  this  encampment  is  42°  42*  37". 

December  19. — After  two  hours*  ride  in  an  easterly  direction,  through  a 
low  country,  the  high  ridge  with  pine  forest  still  to  our  right,  and  a rocky 
and  bald  but  lower  one  on  the  left,  we  reached  a considerable  fresh-water 
stream,  which  issues  from  the  piney  mountains.  So  far  as  we  had  been 
able  to  judge,  between  this  stream  and  the  lake  we  had  crossed  dividing 
grounds ; and  there  did  not  appear  to  be  any  connexion,  as  might  be  in- 
ferred from  the  impure  condition  of  the  lake  water. 

The  rapid  stream  of  pure  water,  roaring  along  between  banks  overhung 
with  aspens  and  willows,  was  a refreshing  and  unexpected  sight ; and  we 
followed  down  the  course  of  the  stream,  which  brought  us  soon  into  a 
marsh,  or  dry  lake,  formed  by  the  expanding  waters  of  the  stream.  It  was 
covered  with  high  reeds  and  rushes,  and  large  patches  of  ground  had  been 
turned  up  by  the  squaws  in  digging  for  roots,  as  if  a farmer  had  been  pre- 
paring the  land  for  grain.  I could  not  succeed  in  finding  the  plant  for  which 


209 


[ 174  J 

they  had  been  digging.  There  were  frequent  trails,  and  fresh  tracks  of 
Indians  ; and,  from  the  abundant  signs  visible,  the  black-tailed  hare  appears 
to  be  numerous  here.  It  was  evident  that,  in  other  seasons,  this  place  was 
a sheet  of  water.  Crossing  this  marsh  towards  the  eastern  hills,  and  pass- 
ing over  a bordering  plain  of  heavy  sands,  covered  with  art$misia,  we  en- 
camped before  sundown  on  the  creek,  which  here  was  very  small,  having 
lost  its  water  in  the  marshy  grounds.  We  found  here  tolerably  good  grass* 
The  wind  to-night  was  high,  and  we  had  no  longer  our  huge  pine  fires* 
but  were  driven  to  our  old  resource  of  small  dried  willows  and  artemisia. 
About  twelve  miles  ahead*  the  valley  appears  to  be  closed  in  by  a high* 
dark-looking  ridge. 

December  20 — Travelling  for  a few  hours  down  the  stream  this  morn- 
ing, we  turned  a point  of  the  hill  on  our  left,  and  came  suddenly  in  sight  of 
another  and  much  larger  lake,  which,  along  its  eastern  shore,  was  closely 
bordered  by  the  high  black  ridge  which  walled  it  in  by  a precipitous  face  on 
this  side.  Throughout  this  region  the  face  of  the  country  is  characterized 
by  these  precipices  of  black  volcanic  rock,  generally  enclosing  the  valleys  of 
streams,  and  frequently  terminating  the  hills.  Often  in  the  course  of  our 
journey  we  w ould  be  tempted  to  continue  our  road  up  the  gentle  ascent  of  a 
sloping  hill,  which,  at  the  summit,  w7ould  terminate  abruptly  in  a black  preci- 
pice. Spread  out  over  a length  of  20  miles,  the  lake,  when  we  first  came 
in  view,  presented  a handsome  sheet  of  water;  and  I gave  to  it  the  name 
of  Lake  Abert,  in  honor  of  the  chief  of  the  corps  to  which  I belonged.  The 
fresh- water  stream  we  had  followed  emptied  into  the  lake  by  a little  fall ; and 
I was  doubtful  for  a moment  whether  to  go  on,  or  encamp  at  this  place.  The 
miry  ground  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  lake  did  not  allow  us  to  examine 
the  water  conveniently,  and,  being  now  on  the  borders  of  a desert  country, 
we  w7ere  moving  cautiously.  It  was,  however,  still  early  in  the  day,  and  I 
continued  on,  trusting  either  that  the  water  would  be  drinkable,  or  that  we 
should  find  some  little  spring  from  the  hill  side.  We  were  following  an 
Indian  trail  which  led  along  the  steep  rocky  precipice  ; a black  ridge  along 
the  western  shore  holding  out  no  prospect  whatever.  The  white  efflores- 
cences which  lined  the  shore  like  a bank  of  snow,  and  the  disagreeable 
ordor  which  filled  the  air  as  soon  as  we  came  near,  informed  us  too  plainly 
that  the  water  belonged  to  one  of  those  fetid  salt  lakes  which  are  common 
in  this  region.  We  continued  until  late  in  the  evening  to  w ork  along  the 
rocky  shore,  but,  as  often  afterwards,  the  dry  inhospitable  rock  deceived 
us  ; and,  halting  on  the  lake,  we  kindled  up  fires  to  guide  those  w7ho  were 
straggling  along  behind.  We  tried  the  water,  but  it  was  impossible  to 
drink  it,  and  most  of  the  people  to-night  lay  down  without  eating  ; but. 
some  of  us,  who  had  always  a great  reluctance  to  close  the  day  without 
supper,  dug  holes  along  the  shore,  and  obtained  water,  w7hich,  being  filtered, 
was  sufficiently  palatable  to  be  used,  but  still  retained  much  of  its  nauseat- 
ing taste.  There  was  very  little  grass  for  the  animals,  the  shore  being 
lined  with  a luxuriant  growth  of  chenopodiaceous  shrubs,  which  burned 
with  a quick  bright  flame,  and  made  our  firewood. 

The  next  morning  we  had  scarcely  travelled  two  hours  along  the  shore 
when  we  reached  a place  where  the  mountains  made  a bay,  leaving  at  their 
feet  a low  bottom  around  the  lake.  Here  we  found  numerous  hillocks 
covered  with  rushes,  in  the  midst  of  which  were  deep  holes,  or  springs,  d 
pure  water;  and  the  bottom  was  covered  with  grass,  which,  although  of  a 
salt  and  unwholesome  quality,  and  mixed  with  saline  efflorescences,  wa 


210 


[ 1^4  ] 

still  abundant,  and  made  a good  halting  place  to  recruit  our  animals;  and 
we  accordingly  encamped  here  for  the  remainder  of  the  day.  I rode  ahead 
several  miles  to  ascertain  if  there  was  any  appearance  of  a watercourse  en- 
tering the  lake;  but  found  none,  the  hills  preserving  their  dry  character, 
and  the  shore  o^the  lake  sprinkled  with  the  same  white  powdery  substance, 
and  covered  wdth  the  same  shrubs.  There  were  flocks  of  ducks  on  the  ' 
lake,  and  frequent  tracks  of  Indians  along  the  shore,  where  the  grass  had 
been  recently  burnt  by  their  fires. 

We  ascended  the  bordering  mountain,  in  order  to  obtain  a more  perfect 
view7  of  the  lake  in  sketching  its  figure  ; hills  swreep  entirely  around  its 
basin,  from  which  the  waters  have  no  outlet. 

December  22. — To-day  we  left  this  forbidding  lake.  Impassable  rocky 
ridges  barred  our  progress  to  the  eastward,  and  I accordingly  bore  off*  to- 
wards the  south,  over  an  extensive  sage  plain.  At  a considerable  distance 
ahead,  and  a little  on  our  left,  was  a range  of  snowy  mountains,  and  the 
country  declined  gradually  tow  ards  the  foot  of  a high  and  nearer  ridge  im- 
mediately before  us,  which  presented  the  feature  of  black  precipices,  now 
becoming  common  to  the  country.  On  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  snow7  was 
visible  ; and  there  being  every  indication  of  a stream  at  its  base,  we  rode 
on  until  after  dark,  but  were  unable  to  reach  it,  and  halted  among  the  sage 
bushes  on  the  open  plain,  without  either  grass  or  water.  The  twro  India- 
rubber  bags  had  been  filled  with  water  in  the  morning,  which  afforded  suf- 
ficient for  the  camp  ; and  rain  in  the  night  formed  pools,  which  relieved  the 
thrist  of  the  animals.  Where  we  encamped  on  the  bleak  sandy  plain,  the 
Indians  had  made  huts  or  circular  enclosures,  about  four  feet  high  and  twelve 
feet  broad,  of  artemisia  bushes.  Whether  these  had  been  forts  or  houses, 
or  what  they  had  been  doing  in  such  a desert  place,  we  could  not  ascertain* 

December  23. — The  weather  is  mild  ; the  thermometer  at  daylight  38°  ; 
the  w7ind  having  been  from  the  southward  for  several  days.  The  country 
has  a very  forbidding  appearance,  presenting  to  the  eye  nothing  but  sage 
and  barren  ridges.  We  rode  up  towards  the  mountain,  along  the  foot  of 
which  we  found  a lake,  which  we  could  not  approach  on  account  of  the 
mud  ; and,  passing  around  its  southern  end,  ascended  the  slope  at  the  foot 
of  the  ridge,  where  in  some  hollows  we  had  discovered  bushes  and  small 
trees — in  such  situations,  a sure  sign  of  water.  We  found  here  several 
springs,  and  the  hill  side  was  well  sprinkled  with  a species  of  festuca — 
a better  grass  than  we  had  found  for  many  days.  Our  elevated  position 
gave  us  a good  view  over  the  country,  but  we  discovered  nothing  very  en- 
couraging. Southward,  about  ten  miles  distant,  was  another  small  lake, 
towards  which  a broad  trail  led  along  the  ridge ; and  this  appearing  to 
afford  the  most  practicable  route,  I determined  to  continue  our  journey  in 
that  direction. 

December  24. — We  found  the  water  of  the  lake  tolerably  pure,  and  en- 
camped at  the  farther  end.  There  were  some  good  grass  and  canes  along 
the  shore,  and  the  vegetation  at  this  place  consisted  principally  of  chenopo- 
diaceous  shrubs. 

December  25. — We  were  roused,  on  Christmas  morning,  by  a discharge 
from  the  small  arms  and  howitzer,  with  which  our  people  saluted  the  day  ; 
and  the  name  of  which  we  bestowed  on  the  lake.  It  was  the  first  time,  per- 
haps, in  this  remote  and  desolate  region,  in  which  it  had  been  so  commem- 
orated. Always,  on  days  of  religious  or  national  commemoration,  our  voy- 
ageurs  expect  some  unusual  allowance  ; and,  having  nothing  else,  I gave 


211 


[ 174  ] 

them  each  a little  brandy,  (which  was  carefully  guarded,  as  one  ofthe<most 
useful  articles  a traveller  can  carry,)  with  some  coffee  and  sugar,  which 
here,  where  every  eatable  was  a luxury,  was  sufficient  to  make  them  a feast. 
The  day  was  sunny  and  warm ; and,  resuming  our  journey,  we  crossed 
some  slight  dividing  grounds  into  a similar  basin,  walled  in  on  the  right  by 
a lofty  mountain  ridge.  The  plainly  beaten  trail  still  continued,  and  occa- 
sionally we  passed  camping  grounds  of  the  Indians,  which  indicated  to  me 
that  we  were  on  one  of  the  great  thoroughfares  of  the  country.  In  the 
afternoon  I attempted  to  travel  in  a more  eastern  direction  ; but,  after  a few 
laborious  miles,  was  beaten  back  into  the  basin  by  an  impassable  country. 
There  were  fr^sh  Indian  tracks  about  the  valley,  and  last  night  ahorse  was 
stolen.  We  encamped  on  the  valley  bottom,  where  there  was  some  cream- 
like water  in  ponds,  colored  by  a clay  soil  and  frozen  over.  Chenopodiaceous 
shrubs  constituted  the  growth,  and  made  again  our  fire  wood.  The  animals 
were  driven  to  the  hill,  where  there  was  tolerably  good  grass. 

December  26. — Our  general  course  was  again  south.  The  country  con- 
sists of  larger  or  smaller  basins,  into  which  the  mountain  waters  run  down, 
forming  small  lakes;  they  present  a perfect  level,  from  which  the  moun- 
tains rise  immediately  and  abruptly.  Between  the  successive  basins,  the 
dividing  grounds  are  usually  very  slight ; and  it  is  probable  that,  in  the  sea- 
sons of  high  water,  many  of  these  basins  are  in  communication.  At  such 
times  there  is  evidently  an  abundance  of  water,  though  now  we  find  scarce- 
ly more  than  the  dry  beds.  On  either  side,  the  mountains,  though  not  very 
high,  appear  to  be  rocky  and  sterile.  The  basin  in  which  we  were  travel- 
ling declined  towards  the  southwest  corner,  where  the  mountains  indicated 
a narrow  outlet ; and,  turning  round  a rocky  point  or  cape,  we  continued 
up  a lateral  branch  valley,  in  which  we  encamped  at  night  on  a rapid,  pretty* 
little  stream  of  fresh  water,  which  we  found  unexpectedly  among  the  sage 
near  the  ridge,  on  the  right  side  of  the  Galley.  It  was  bordered  with  grassy 
bottoms  and  clumps  of  willows,  the  water  partially  frozen.  This  stream 
belongs  to  the  basin  we  had  left.  By  a partial  observation  to-night,  our 
camp  was  found  tp  be  directly  on  the  42d  parallel.  To-night  a horse  be- 
longing to  Carson,  one  of  the  best  we  had  in  the  camp,  was  stolen  by  the 
Indians. 

December  21. — We  continued  up  the  valley  of  the  stream,  the  principal 
branch  of  which  here  issues  from  a bed  of  high  mountains.  We  turned 
up  a branch  to  the  left*  and  fell  into  an  Indian  trail,  which  conducted  us  by 
a good  road  over  open  bottoms  along  the  creek,  where  the  snow  was  five  or 
six  inches  deep.  Gradually  ascending,  the  trail  led  through  a good  broad 
pass  in  the  mountain,  where  we  found  the  snow  about  one  foot  deep.  There 
were  some  remarkably  large  cedars  in  the  pass,  which  were  covered  with  an 
unusual  quantity  of  frost,  which  we  supposed  might  possibly  indicate  the 
neighborhood  of  water ; and  as,  in  the  arbitrary  position  of  Mary’s  lake, 
we  were  already  beginning  to  look  for  it,  this  circumstance  contributed  to 
our  hope  of  finding  it  near.  Descending  from  the  mountain,  we  reached 
another  basin,  on  the  flat  lake  bed  of  which  we  found  no  water,  and 
encamped  among  the  sage  on  the  bordering  plain,  where  the  snow  vras 
still  about  one  foot  deep.  Among  this  the  grass  was  remarkably  green,  and 
to-night  the  animals  fared  tolerably  well. 

December  28. — The  snow  being  deep,  1 had  determined,  if  any  more 
horses  were  stolen,  to  follow  the  tracks  of  the  Indians  into  the  mountains, 


212 


[ 174  ] 

and  put  a temporary  check  to  their  sly  operations ; but  it  did  not  occur 
again. 

Our  road  this  morning  lay  down  a level  valley,  bordered  by  steep  moun- 
tainous ridges,  rising  very  abruptly  from  the  plain.  Artemisia  was  the  prin- 
cipal plant,  mingled  with  Fremonlia  and  the  chenopodiaceous  shrubs. 
The  artemisia  was  here  extremely  large,  being  sometimes  afoot  in  diame- 
ter and  eight  feet  high.  Riding  quietly  along  over  the  snow,  we  came  sud- 
denly upon  smokes  rising  among  these  bushes ; and,  galloping  up,  we  found 
two  huts,  open  at  the  top,  and  loosely  built  of  sage,  which  appeared  to  have 
been  deserted  at  the  instant;  and,  looking  hastily  around,  we  saw  several 
Indians  on  the  crest  of  the  ridge  near  by,  and  several  others  scrambling  up 
the  side.  We  had  come  upon  them  so  suddenly,  that  they  hid  been  well- 
nigh  surprised  in  their  lodges.  A sage  fire  was  burning  in  the  middle ; a 
few  baskets  made  of  straw  were  lying  about,  with  one  or  two  rabbit  skins  ; 
and  there  was  a little  grass  scattered  about,  on  which  they  had  been  lying. 
u Tabibo — bo  !”  they  shouted  from  the  hills — a word  which,  in  the  Snake 
language,  signifies  white — and  remained  looking  at  us  from  behind  the 
rocks.  Carson  and  Godey  rode  towards  the  hill,  but  the  men  ran  off  like 
deer.  They  had  been  so  much  pressed,  that  a woman  with  two  children 
had  dropped  behind  a sage  bush  near  the  lodge,  and  when  Carson  accident- 
ally stumbled  upon  her,  she  immediately  began  screaming  in  the  extremity 
of  fear,  and  shut  her  eyes  fast,  to  avoid  seeing  him.  She  was  brought  back 
to  the  lodge,  and  we  endeavored  in  vain  to  open  a communication  with  the 
men.  By  dint  of  presents,  and  friendly  demonstrations,  she  was  brought 
to  calmness;  and  we  found  that  they  belonged  to  the  Snake  nation, speak- 
ing the  language  of  that  people.  Eight  or  ten  appeared  to  live  together, 
under  the  same  little  shelter ; and  they  seemed  to  have  no  other  subsistence 
than  the  roots  or  seeds  they  might  have  stored  up,  and  the  hares  which  live 
in  the  sage,  and  which  they  are  enabled  to  track  through  the  snow,  and  are 
very  skilful  in  killing.  Their  skins  afford  them  a little  scanty  covering. 
Herding  together  among  bushes,  and  crouching  almost  naked  over  a little 
sage  fire,  using  their  instinct  only  to  procure  food,  these  may  be  considered, 
among  human  beings,  the  nearest  approach  to  the  mere  animal  creation. 
We  have  reason  to  believe  that  these  had  never  before  seen  the  face  of  a 
white  man. 

The  day  had  been  pleasant,  but  about  two  o’clock  it  began  to  blow7 ; and 
crossing  a slight  dividing  ground  we  encamped  on  th£  sheltered  side  of  a 
hill,  where  there  was  good  bunch  grass,  having  made  a day’s  journey  of  24 
miles.  The  night  closed  in,  threatening  snow ; but  the  large  sage  bushes 
made  bright  fires. 

December  29. — The  morning  mild,  and  at  4 o’clock  it  commenced  snow- 
ing. We  took  our  way  across  a plain,  thickly  covered  with  snow7,  towards 
a range  of  hills  in  the  southeast.  The  sky  soon  became  so  dark  with  snow, 
that  little  could  be  seen  of  the  surrounding  country  ;tand  we  reached  the 
summit  of  the  hills  in  a heavy  snow  storm.  On  the  side  w7e  had  ap- 
proached, this  had  appeared  to  be  only  a ridge  of  low  hills ; and  we  were  N 
surprised  to  find  ourselves  on  the  summit  of  a bed  of  broken  mountains, 
which,  as  far  as  the  weather  would  permit  us  to  see,  declined  rapidly  to 
some  low  country  ahead,  presenting  a dreary  and  savage  character;  and 
for  a moment  I looked  around  in  doubt  on  the  wTild  and  inhospitable  pros- 
pect, scarcely  knowing  what  road  to  take  which  might  conduct  us  to  some 
place  of  shelter  for  the  night.  .Noticing  among  the  hills  the  bead  of  a 


213 


[ 174  ] 

grassy  hollow,  I determined  to  follow  it,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  conduct 
us  to  a stream.  We  followed  a winding  descent  for  several  miles,  the  hol- 
low gradually  broadening  into  little  meadows,  and  becoming  the  bed  of  a 
stream  as  we  advanced  ; and  towards  night  we  were  agreeably  surprised 
by  the  appearance  of  a willow  grove,  where  we  found  a sheltered  camp, 
with  water  and  excellent  and  abundant  grass.  The  grass,  which  was  cov- 
ered by  the  snow  on  the  bottom,  was  long  and  green,  and  the  face  of  the 
mountain  had  a more  favorable  character  in  its  vegetation,  being  smoother, 
and  covered  with  good  bunch  grass.  The  snow  was  deep,  and  the  night 
very  cold.  A broad  trail  had  entered  the  valley  from  the  right,  and  a short 
distance  below  the  camp  were  the  tracks  where  a considerable  party  of 
Indians  had  passed  on  horseback,  who  had  turned  out  to  the  left,  appa- 
rently with  the  view  of  crossing  the  mountains  to  the  eastward. 

December  30. — After  following  the  stream  for  a few  hours  in  a south- 
easterly direction,  it  entered  a canon  where  we  could  not  follow ; but  de- 
termined not  to  leave  the  stream,  we  searched  a passage  below,  where  we 
could  regain  it,  and  entered  a regular  narrow  valley.  The  water  had  now 
more  the  appearance  of  a flowing  creek  ; several  times  we  passed  groves 
of  willows,  and  we  began  to  feel  ourselves  out  of  all  difficulty.  From  our 
position,  it  was  reasonable  to  conclude  that  this  stream  would  find  its  outlet 
in  Mary’s  lake,  and  conduct  us  into  a better  country.  We  had  descended 
rapidly,  and  here  we  found  very  little  snow.  On  both  sides,  the  mountains 
showed  often  stupendous  and  curious-looking  rocks,  which  at  several  places 
so  narrowed  the  valley,  that  scarcely  a pass  was  left  for  the  camp.  It  was 
a singuJar  place  to  travel  through — shut  up  in  the  earth,  a sort  of  chasm, 
the  little  strip  of  grass  under  our  feet,  the  rough  walls  of  bare  rock  on 
either  hand,  and  the  narrow  strip  of  sky  above.  The  grass  to-night  was 
abundant,  and  we  encamped  in  high  spirits. 

December  31. — After  an  hour’s  ride  this  morning,  our  hopes  were  once 
more  destroyed.  The  valley  opened  out,  .and  before  us  again  lay  one  of 
the  dry  basins.  After  some  search,  we  discovered  a high-water  outlet, 
which  brought  us  in  a few  miles,  and  by  a descent  of  several  hundred  feet, 
into  another  long  broad  basin,  in  which  we  found  the  bed  of  a stream,  and 
obtained  sufficient  water  by  cutting  the  ice.  The  grass  on  the  bottoms 
was  salt  and  unpalatable. 

Here  we  concluded  the  year  1843,  and  our  new  year’s  eve  was  rather 
a gloomy  one.  The  result  of  our  journey  began  to  be  very  uncertain  ; the 
country  was  singularly  unfavorable  to  travel;  the  grasses  being  frequently 
of  a very  unwholesome  character,  and  the  hoofs  of  our  animals  were  so 
worn  and  cut  by  the  rocks,  that  many  of  them  were  lame,  and  could 
scarcely  be  got  along. 

New  Year's  day , 1844. — We  continued  down  the  valley,  between  a dry- 
looking black  ridge  on  the  left  and  a more  snowy  and  high  one  on  the 
right.  Our  road  was  bad  along  the  bottom,  being  broken  by  gullies  and 
impeded  by  sage,  and  sandy  on  the  hills,  where  there  is  not  a blade  of 
grass,  nor  does  any  appear  on  the  mountains.  The  soil  in  many  places 
consists  of  a fine  powdery  sand,  covered  with  a saline  efflorescence;  and 
the  general  character  of  the  country  is  desert.  During  the  day  we  di- 
rected our  course  towards  a black  cape,  at  the  foot  of  which  a column  of 
smoke  indicated  hot  springs. 

January  2. — We  were  on  the  road  early,  the  face  of  the  country  hidden 
by  falling  snow.  We  travelled  along  the  bed  of  the  stream,  in  some  places 


214 


[ 174  ] 

dry,  in  others  covered  with  ice ; the  travelling  being  very  bad,  through 
deep  fine  sand,  rendered  tenacious  by  a mixture  of  clay.  The  weather 
cleared  up  a little  at  noon,  and  we  reached  the  hot  springs  of  which  we 
had  seen  the  vapor  the  day  before.  There  was  a large  field  of  the  usual 
salt  grass  here,  peculiar  to  such  places.  The  country  otherwise  is  a per- 
fect barren,  without  a blade  of  grass,  the  only  plants  being  some  dwarf 
Fremontias.  We  passed  the  rocky  cape,  a jagged  broken  point,  bare  and 
torn.  The  rocks  are  volcanic,  and  the  hills  here  have  a burnt  appear- 
ance— cinders  and  coal  occasionally  appearing  as  at  a blacksmith’s  forge. 
We  crossed,  the  large  dry  bed  of  a muddy  lake  in  a southeasterly  direction, 
and  encamped  at  night  without  water  and  w/thout  grass,  among  sage  bushes 
covered  with  snow.  The  heavy  road  made  several  mules  give  out  to-day; 
and  a horse,  which  had  made  the  journey  from  the  States  successfully  thus 
far,  was  left  on  the  trail. 

January  3. — A fog,  so  dense  that  we  could  not  see  a hundred  yards, 
covered  the  country,  and  the  men  that  were  sent  out  after  the  horses  were 
bewildered  and  lost;  and  we  were  consequently  detained  at  camp  until 
late  in  the  day.  Our  situation  had  now  become  a serious  one.  We  had 
reached  and  rup  over  the  position  where,  according  to  the  best  maps  in 
my  possession,  we  should  have  found  Mary’s  lake,  or  river.  We  were 
evidently  on  the  verge  of  the  desert  which  had  been  reported  to  us ; and 
the  appearance  of  the  country  was  so  forbidding,  that  I was  afraid  to  enter 
it,  and  determined  to  bear  away  to  the  southward,  keeping  close  along  the 
mountains,  in  the  full  expectation  of  reaching  the  Buenaventura  river. 
This  morning  I put  every  man  in  the  camp  on  foot — myself,  of  course, 
among  the  rest — and  in  this  manner  lightened  by  distribution  the  loads  of 
the  animals.  We  travelled  seven  or  eight  miles  along  the  ridge  border- 
ing the  valley,  and  encamped  where  there  were  a few  bunches  of  grass  on 
the  bed  of  a hill  torrent,  without  water.  There  were  some  large  artemi- 
sias  ; but  the  principal  plants  are  chenopodiaceous  shrubs.  The  rock  com- 
posing the  mountains  is  here  changed  suddenly  into  white  granite.  The 
fog  showed  the  tops  of  the  hills  at  sunset,  and  stars  enough  for  observations 
in  the  early  evening,  and  then  closed  over  us  as  before.  Latitude  by  ob- 
servation, 40°  48'  15". 

January  4. — The  fog  to-day  was  still  more  dense,  and  the  people  again 
were  bewildered.  We  travelled  a few  miles  around  the  western  point  of 
the  ridge,  and  encamped  where  there  were  a few  tufts  of  grass,  but  no 
water.  Our  animals  now  were  in  a very  alarming  state,  and  there  was  in- 
creased anxiety  in  the  camp. 

January  5. — Same  dense  fog  continued,  and  one  of  the  mules  died  in 
camp  this  morning.  I have  had  occasion  to  remark,  on  such  occasions  as 
these,  that  animals  which  are  about  to  die  leave  the  band,  and,  coming 
into  the  camp,  lie  down  about  the  fires.  We  moved  to  a place  where 
there  was  a little  better  grass,  about  two  miles  distant.  Taplin,  one  of  our 
best  men,  who  had  gone  out  on  a scouting  excursion,  ascended  a mountain 
near  by,  and  to  his  great  surprise  emerged  into  a region  of  bright  sunshine, 
in  which  the  upper  parts  of  the  mountain  were  glowing,  while  below  all 
was  obscured  in  the  darkest  fog. 

January  6. — The  fog  continued  the  same,  and,  with  Mr.  Preuss  and  Car- 
son,  I ascended  the  mountain,  to  sketch  the  leading  features  of  the  country, 
as  some  indication  of  our  future  route,  while  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  explored  the 
country  below.  In  a very  short  distance  we  had  ascended  above  the  mist, 


215 


[ 174  ] 

but  the  view  obtained  was  not  very  gratifying.  The  fog  had  partially 
cleared  off  from  below  when  we  reached  the  summit;  and  in  the  south- 
west corner  of  a basin  communicating  with  that  in  which  we  had  encamp- 
ed, we  saw  a lofty  column  of  smoke,  1 6 milesdistant,  indicating  the  presence 
of  hot  springs.  There,  also,  appeared  to  be  the  outlet  of  those  draining 
channels  of  the  country  ;and,  as  such  places  afforded  always  more  or  less 
grass,  I determined  to  steer  in  that  direction.  The  ridge  we  had  ascended 
appeared  to  be  composed  of  fragments  of  white  granite.  We  saw  here 
traces  of  sheep  and  antelope. 

Entering  the  neighboring  valley,  and  crossing  the  bed  of  another  lake, 
after  a hard  day’s  travel  over  ground  of  yielding  mud  and  sand,  we  reached 
the  springs,  where  we  found  an  abundance  of  grass,  which,  though  only 
tolerably  good,  made  this  place,  with  reference  to  the  past,  a refreshing  and 
agreeable  spot. 

This  is  the  most  extraordinary  locality  of  hot  springs  we  had  met  during 
the  journey.  The  basin  of  the  largest  one  has  a circumference  of  several 
hundred  feet ; but  there  is  at  one  extremity  a circular  space  of  about  fifteen 
feet  in  diameter,  entirely  occupied  by  the  boiling  water.  It  boils  up  at  ir- 
regular intervals,  and  with  much  noise.  The  water  is  clear,  and  the  spring 
deep  ; a pole  about  sixteen  feet  long  was  easily  immersed  in  the  centre, 
but  we  had  no  means  of  forming  a good  idea  of  the  depth.  It  was  surround- 
ed on  the  margin  with  a border  of  green  grass,  and  near  the  shore  the  tem- 
perature of  the  water  was  206°.  We  had  no  means  of  ascertaining  that 
of  the  centre,  where  the  heat  was  greatest ; but,  by  dispersing  the  water 
w'ith  a pole,  the  temperature  at  the  margin  was  increased  to  208°,  and  in 
the  centre  it  was  doubtless  highet.  By  driving  the  pole  towards  the  bot- 
tom, the  water  was  made  to  boil  up  with  increased  force  and  noise.  There 
are  several  other  interesting  places,  where  water  and  smoke  or  gas  escape, 
but  they  would  require  a long  description.  The  water  is  impregnated  with 
common  salt,  but  not  so  much  so  as  to  render  it  unfit  for  general  cooking; 
and  a mixture  of  snow  made  it  pleasant  to  drink. 

In  the  immediate  neighborhood,  the  valley  bottom  is  covered  almost  ex- 
clusively with  chenopodiaceous  shrubs,  of  greater  luxuriance,  and  larger 
growth,  than  we  have  seen  them  in  any  preceding  part  of  the  journey. 

I obtained  this  evening  some  astronomical  observations. 

Our  situation  now  required  caution.  Including  those  which  gave  out 
from  the  injured  condition  of  their  feet,  and  those  stolen  by  Indians,  we 
had  lost,  since  leaving  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  fifteen  animals;  and  of 
these,  nine  had  been  left  in  the  last  few  days.  I therefore  determined,  un- 
til we  should  reach  a country  of  water  and  vegetation,  to  feel  our  way 
ahead,  by  having  the  line  of  route  explored  some  fifteen  or  twenty  miles 
in  advance,  and  only  to  leave  a present  encampment  when  the  succeeding 
one  .was  known. 

Taking  with  me  Godey  and  Carson,  I made  to-day  a thorough  explora- 
tion of  the  neighboring  valleys,  and  found  in  a ravine  in  the  bordering 
mountains  a good  camping  place,  where  was  water  in  springs,  and  a suffi- 
cient quantity  of  grass  for  a night.  Overshading  the  springs  were  some 
trees  of  the  sweet  cottonwood,  which,  after  a long  interval  of  absence,  we 
saw  again  with  pleasure,  regarding  them  as  harbingers  of  a better  country. 
To  us,  they  were  eloquent  of  green  prairies  and  buffalo.  We  found  here  a 
broad  and  plainly  marked  trail,  on  which  there  were  tracks  of  horses,  and 
we  appeared  to  have  regained  one  of  the  thoroughfares  which  pass  by  the 


216 


t 174  ] 

watering  places  of  the  country.  On  the  western  mountains  of  the  valley, 
with  which  this  of  the  boiling  spring  communicates,  we  remarked  scat- 
tered cedars — probably  an  indication  that  we  were  on  the  borders  of  the 
timbered  region  extending  to  the  Pacific.  We  reached  the  camp  at  sunset, 
after  a day’s  ride  of  about  forty  miles.  The  horses  we  rode  were  in  good 
order,  being  of  some  that  were  kept  for  emergencies,  and  rarely  used. 

Mr.  Preuss  had  ascended  one  of  the  mountains,  and  occupied  the  day  in 
sketching  the  country  ; and  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  had  found,  a few  miles  distant, 
a hollow  of  excellent  grass  and  pure  water,  to  which  the  animals  were 
driven,  as  I remained  another  day  to  give  them  an  opportunity  to  recruit 
their  strength.  Indians  appear  to  be  every  where  prowling  about  like  wild 
animals,  and  there  is  a fresh  trail  across  the  snow  in  the  valley  near. 

Latitude  of  the  boiling  springs,  40°  39'  46". 

On  the  9th  we  crossed  over  to  the  cottonwood  camp.  Among  the  shrubs 
on  the  hills  were  a few  bushes  of  ephedra  occidentalism  which  afterwards 
occurred  frequently  along  our  road,  and,  as  usual,  the  lowlands  were  occu- 
pied with  artemisia.  ’While  the  party  proceeded  to  this  place,  Carson  and 
myself  reconnoitred  the  road  in  advance,  and  found  another  good  encamp- 
ment for  the  following  day. 

January  10. — We  continued  our  reconnoisance  ahead,  pursuing  a south 
direction  in  the  basin  along  the  ridge  ; the  camp  following  slowly  after.  On 
a large  trail  there  is  never  any  doubt  of  finding  suitable  places  for  encamp- 
ments. We  reached  the  end  of  the  basin,  where  we  found,  in  a hollow  of 
the  mountain  which  enclosed  it,  an  abundance  of  good  bunch  grass. 
Leaving  a signal  for  the  party  to  encamp,  wre  continued  our  way  up  'the 
hollow,  intending  to  see  w*hat  lay  beyond  the  mountain.  The  hollow  wras 
several  miles  long,  forming  a good  pass,  the  snow  deepening  to  about  a 
foot  as  we  neared  the  summit.  Beyond,  a defile  between  the  mountains 
descended  rapidly  about  two  thousand  feet;  and,  filling  up  all  the  lower 
space,  wras  a sheet  of  green  w7ater,  some  twenty  miles  broad.  It  broke  upon 
our  eyes  like  the  ocean.  The  neighboring  peaks  rose  high  above  us, 
and  we  ascended  one  of  them  to  obtain  a better  view.  The  wTaves  were 
curling  in  the  breeze,  and  their  dark-green  color  showred  it  to  be  a body  of 
deep  water.  For  a long  time  we  sat  enjoying  the  view,  for  we  had  become 
fatigued  with  mountains,  and  the  free  expanse  of  moving  waves  was  very 
grateful.  It  was  set  like  a gem  in  the  mountains,  which,  from  our  position, 
seemed  to  enclose  it  almost  entirely.  At  the  western  end  it  communicated 
with  the  line  of  basins  we  had  left  a few  days  since;  and  on  the  opposite 
side  it  swept  a ridge  of  snowy  mountains,  the  foot  of  the  great  Sierra.  Its 
position  at  first  inclined  us  to  believe  it  Mary’s  lake,  but  the  rugged  moun- 
tains were  so  entirely  discordant  with  descriptions  of  its  low  rushy  shores 
and  open  country,  that  we  concluded  it  some  unknown  body  of  water ; 
wrhich  it  afterwards  proved  to  be. 

On  our  road  down,  the  next  day,  we  saw  herds  of  mountain  sheep,  and 
encamped  on  a little  stream  at  the  mouth  of  the  defile,  about  a mile  from 
the  margin  of  the  water,  to  which  w7e  hurried  down  immediately.  The 
water  is  so  slightly  salt,  that,  at  first,  we  thought  it  fresh,  and  would  be 
pleasant  to  drink  when  no  other  could  be  had.  The  shore  was  rocky — a 
handsome  beach,  which  reminded  us  of  the  sea.  On  some  large  granite 
boulders  that  were  scattered  about  the  shore,  I remarked  a coating  of  a 
calcareous  substance,  in  some  places  a few  inches  and  in  others  a foot  in 
thickness.  Near  our  camp,  the  hills,  which  were  of  primitive  rock,  were 


217 


[ 174  ] 

also  covered  with  this  substance,  which  was  in  too  great  quantity  on  the 
mountains  along  the  shore  of  the  lake  to  have  been  deposited  by  water, 
and  has  the  appearance  of  having  been  spread  over  the  rocks  in  mass.* 

Where  we  had  halted,  appeared  to  be  a favorite  camping  place  for  In- 
dians. 

January  13. — We  followed  again  a broad  Indian  trail  along  the  shore  of 
the  lake  to  the  southward.  For  a short  space  we  had  room  enough  in  the 
bottom  ; but,  after  travelling  a short  distance,  the  waters  wept  the  foot  of 
precipitous  mountains,  the  peaks  of  which  are  about  3,000  feet  above  the 
lake.  The  trail  wound  along  the  base  of  these  precipices,  against  which 
the  water  dashed  below,  by  a way  nearly  impracticable  for  the  howitzer. 
During  a greater  part  of  the  morning  the  lake  was  nearly  hid  by  a snow 
storm,  and  the  waves  broke  on  the  narrow  beach  in  a long  line  of  foaming 
surf,  five  or  six  feet  high.  The  day  was  unpleasantly  cold,  the  wind  driv- 
ing the  snow  sharp  against  our  faces  ; and,  having  advanced  only  about  12 
miles,  we  encamped  in  a bottom  formed  by  a ravine,  covered  with  good 
grass,  which  was  fresh  and  green. 

We  did  not  get  the  howitzer  into  camp,  but  were  obliged  to  leave  it  on 
the  rocks  until  morning.  We  §pw  several  flocks  of  sheep,  but  did  not  suc- 
ceed in  killing  any.  Ducks  were  riding  on  the  waves,  and  several  large 
fish  were  seen.  The  mountain  sides  were  crusted  with  the  calcareous 
cement  previously  mentioned.  There  were  chenopodiaceous  and  other 
shrubs  along  the  beach  ; and,  at  the  foot  of  the  rocks,  an  abundance  of 
ephedra  occidentalism  whose  dark-green  color  makes  them  evergreens  among 
the  shrubby  growth  of  the  lake.  Towards  evening  the  snow  began  to  fall 
heavily,  and  the  country  had  a wintry  appearance. 

The  next  morning  the  snow  was  rapidly  melting  under  a warm  sun. 
Part  of  the  morning  was  occupied  in  bringing  up  the  gun  ; and,  making 
only  nine  miles,  we  encamped  on  the  shore, opposite  a very  remarkable  rock 
in  the  lake,  which  had  attracted  our  attention  for  many  miles.  It  rose,  ac- 
cording to  our  estimate,  600  feet  above  the  water  ; and,  from  the  point  we 
viewed  it,  presented  a pretty  exact  outline  of  the  great  pyramid  of  Cheops. 
The  accompanying  drawing  presents  it  as  we  saw  it.  Like  other  rocks 
along  the  shore,  it  seemed  to  be  incrusted  with  calcareous  cement.  This 
striking  feature  suggested  a name  for  the  lake  ; and  I called  it  Pyramid 
lake  ; and  though  it  may  be  deemed  by  some  a fanciful  resemblance,  I can 
undertake  ft)  say  that  the  future  traveller  will  find  a much  more  striking 
resemblance  between  this  rock  and  the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  than  there  is 
between  them  and  the  object  from  which  they  take  their  name. 

The  elevation  of  this  lake  above  the  sea  is  4,890  feet,  being  nearly  700 
feet  higher  than  the  Great  Salt  lake,  from  which  it  lies  nearly  west,  and 
distant  about  eight  degrees  of  longitude.  The  position  and  elevation  of  this 

* The  label  attached  to  a specimen  of  this  rock  was  lost ; but  I append  an  analysis  of  that  which. 


from  memory,  I judge  to  be  the  specimen. 
Carbonate  of  lime  - 

77.31 

Carbonate  of  magnesia  - 

- 

- 

. 

5.25 

Oxide  of  iron  - 

- 

- 

- 

- 

- 

1.60 

Alumina  - 

- 

- 

_ 

- 

1.05 

Silica 

- 

- 

- 

_ 

- 

8.55 

Organic  matter,  water,  and  loss 

' - 

- 

- 

- 

6.24 

100.00 


218 


[ 174  ] 

lake  make  it  an  object  of  geographical  interest.  It  is  the  nearest  lake  to 
the  western  rim,  as  the  Great  Salt  lake  is  to  the  eastern  rim,  of  the  Great 
Basin  which  lies  between  the  base  of  the  Rocky  mountains  and  the  Sierra 
Nevada  ; and  the  extent  and  character  of  which,  its  whole  circumference 
and  contents,  it  is  so  desirable  to  know. 

The  last  of  the  cattle  which  had  been  driven  from  the  Dalles  was  killed 
here  for  food,  and  was  still  in  good  condition. 

January  15.— A few  poor-looking  Indians  made  their  appearanee  this 
morning,  and  we  succeeded  in  getting  one  into  the  camp.  He  was  naked, 
with  the  exception  of  a tunic  of  hare  skins.  He  told  us  that  there  was  a 
river  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  but  that  he  lived  in  the  rocks  near  by.  From 
the  lew  words  our  people  could  understand,  he  spoke  a dialect  of  the  Snake 
language ; but  we  were  not  able  to  understand  enough  to  know  whether 
the  river  ran  in  or  out,  or  what  was  its  course  ; consequently,  there  still 
remained  a chance  that  this  might  be  Mary’s  lake. 

Groves  of  large  cottonwood,  which  we  could  see  at  the  mouth  of  the 
river,  indicated  that  it  was  a stream  of  considerable  size  ; and,  at  all  events, 
we  had  the  pleasure  to  know  that  now  we  were  in  a country  where  human 
beings  could  live.  Accompanied  by  the  Indian,  we  resumed  our  road,  pass- 
ing on  the  way  several  caves  in  the  roLck  where  there  were  baskets  and 
seeds  ; but  the  people  had  disappeared.  We  saw  also  horse  tracks  along 
the  shore. 

Early  in  the  afternoon,  when  we  were  approaching  the  groves  at  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  three  or  four  Indians  met  us  on  the  trail.  We  had  an 
explanatory  conversation  in  signs,  and  then  moved  on  together  towards  the 
village,  which  the  chief  said  was  encamped  on  the  bottom. 

Reaching  the  groves,  we  found  the  inlet  of  a large  fresh-water  stream, 
and  all  at  once  were  satisfied  that  it  was  neither  Mary’s  river  nor  the 
waters  of  the  Sacramento,  but  that  we  had  discovered  a large  interior  lake, 
which  the  Indians  informed  us  had  no  outlet.  It  is  about  35  miles  long ; 
and,  by  the  mark  of  the  water  line  along  the  shores,  the  spring  level  is  about 
12  feet  above  its  present  waters.  The  chief  commenced  speaking  in  a loud 
voice  as  we  approached  ; and  parties  of  Indians  armed  with  bows  and  ar- 
rows issued  from  the  thickets.  We  selected  a strong  place  for  our  encamp- 
ment— a grassy  bottom,  nearly  enclosed  by  the  river,  and  furnished  with 
abundant  fire  wood.  The  village,  a collection  of  straw  huts,  was  a few 
hundred  yards  higher  up.  An  Indian  brought  in  a large»fish  to  trade,, 
which  we  had  the  inexpressible  satisfaction  to  find  was  a salmon  trout ; we 
gathered  round  him  eagerly.  The  Indians  were  amused  with  our  delight, 
and  immediately  brought  in  numbers  ; so  that  the  camp  was  soon  stocked. 
Their  flavor  was  excellent — superior,  in  fact,  to  that  of  any  fish  I have  ever 
known.  They  were  of  extraordinary  size — about  as  large  as  the  Columbia 
river  salmon — generally  from  two  to  four  feet  in  length.  From  the  infor- 
mation of  Mr.  Walker,  who  passed  among  some  lakes  lying  more  to  the 
eastward,  this  fish  is  common  to  the  streams  of  the  inland  lakes.  He  sub- 
sequently informed  me  that  he  had  obtained  them  weighing  six  pounds 
when  cleaned  and  the  head  taken  off ; which  corresponds  very  well  with 
the  size  of  those  obtained  at  this  place.  They  doubtless  formed  the  subsist- 
ence of  these  people,  who  hold  the  fishery  in  exclusive  possession. 

I remarked  that  one  of  them  gave  a fish  to  the  Indian  we  had  first  seen, 
which  he  carried  off  to  his  family.  To  them  it  was  probably  a feast ; being 
of  the  Digger  tribe,  and  having  no  share  in  the  fishery,  living  generally  on 


219 


[ 174  ] 

seeds  and  roots.  Although  this  was  a time  of  the  year  when  the  fish  have 
not  yet  become  fat,  they  were  excellent,  and  we  could  only  imagine  what 
they  are  at  the  proper  season.  These  Indians  were  very  fat,  and  appeared 
to  live  an  easy  and  happy  life.  They  crowded  into  the  camp  more  than 
was  consistent  with  our  safety,  retaining  always  their  arms ; and,  as  they 
made  some  unsatisfactory  demonstrations,  they  were  given  to  understand 
that  they  would  not  be  permitted  to  come  armed  into  the  camp  ; and  strong 
guards  were  kept  with  the  horses.  Strict  vigilance  was  maintained  among 
the  people,  and  one-third  at  a time  were  kept  on  guard  during  the  night. 
There  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that  these  dispositions,  uniformly  preserved, 
conducted  our  party  securely  through  Indians  famed  for  treachery. 

In  the  mean  time,  such  a salmon-trout  feast  as  is  seldom  seen  was  going 
on  in  our  camp;  ana  every  variety  of  manner  in  which  fish  could  be  pre- 
paid— boiled,  fried,  and  roasted  in  the  ashes — ftas  put  into  requisition  ; 
and  every  few  minutes  an  Indian  would  be  seen  running  off  to  spear  a 
fresh  one.  Whether  these  Indians  had  seen  whites  before,  we  could  not 
be  certain ; but  they  were  evidently  in  communication  with  others  who 
had,  as  one  of  them  had  some  brass  buttons,  and  we  noticed«everal  other 
articles  of  civilized  manufacture.  We  could  obtain  from  them  but  little 
information  respecting  the  country.  They  made  on  the  ground  a drawing 
of  the  river,  which  they  represented  as  issuing  from  another  lake  in  the 
mountains  three  or  four  days  distant,  in  a direction  a little  west  of  south ; 
beyond  which,  they  drew  a mountain  ; and  further  still,  two  rivers  ; on  one 
of  which  they  told  us  that  people  like  ourselves  travelled.  Whether  they 
alluded  to  the  settlements  on  the  Sacramento,  or  to  a party  from  the  Unit- 
ed States  which  had  crossed  the  Sierra  about  three  degrees  to  the  south- 
ward, a few  years  since,  I am  unable  t©  determine. 

I tried  unsuccessfully  to  prevail  on  some  of  them  to  guide  us  for  a few 
days  on  the  road,  but  they  only  looked  at  each  other  and  laughed. 

The  latitude  of  our  encampment,  which  may  be  considered  the  mouth 
of  the  inlet,  is  39°  51'  13"  by  our  observations. 

January  16. — This  morning  we  continued  our  journey  along  this  beau- 
tiful stream,  which  we  naturally  called  the  Salmon  Trout  river.  Large 
trails  led  up  on  either  side  ; the  stream  was  handsomely  timbered  with  large 
cottonwoods  ; and  the  waters  were  very  clear  and  pure.  We  were  travelling 
along  the  mountains  of  the  great  Sierra,  which  rose  on  our  right,  covered 
with  snow  j^but  below  the  temperature  was  mild  and  pleasant.  We  saw  a 
number  of  dams  which  the  Indians  had  constructed  to  catch  fish.  After 
having  made  about  18  miles,  we  encamped  under  some  large  cottonwoods 
on  the  river  bottom,  where  there  was  tolerably  good  grass. 

January  17. — This  morning  we  left  the  river,  which  here  issues  from  the 
mountains  on  the  west.  With  every  stream  I now  expected  to  see  the  great 
Buenaventura;  and  Carson  hurried  eagerly  to  search,  on  every  one  we 
reached,  for  beaver  cuttings,  which  he  always  maintained  we  should  find 
only  on  waters  that  ran  to  the  Pacific ; and  the  absence  of  such  signs  was 
to  him  a sure  indication  that  the  water  had  no  outlet  from  the  great  basin. 
We  followed  the  Indian  trail  through  a tolerably  level  country,  with  small 
sage  bushes,  which  brought  us,  after  20  miles  journey,  to  another  large 
stream,  timbered  with  cottonwood,  and  flowing  also  out  of  the  mountains, 
but  running  more  directly  to  the  eastward. 

On  the  way  we  surprised  a family  of  Indians  in  the  hills;  but  the  man 
ran  up  the  mountain  with  rapidity;  and  the  woman  was  so  terrified,  and 


220 


[ 1'4  1 

kept  up  such  a continued  screaming,  that  we  could  do  nothing  with  her, 
and  were  obliged  to  let  her  go. 

January  18. — There  were  Indian  lodges  and  fish  dams  on  the  stream. 
There  were  no  beaver  cuttings  on  the  river;  but  below,  it  turned  round 
to  the  right ; and,  hoping  that  it  would  prove  a branch  of  the  Buenaventura, 
we  followed  it  down  for  about  three  hours,  and  encamped. 

I rode  out  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  Carson  to  reconnoitre  the  country, 
wrhich  had  evidently  been  alarmed  by  the  news  of  our  appearance.  This 
stream  joined  with  the  open  valley  of  another  to  the  eastward  ; but  which 
way  the  main  water  ran,  it  was  impossible  to  tell.  Columns  of  smoke  rose 
over  the  country  at  scattered  intervals — signals  by  which  the  Indians  here, 
as  elsewhere,  communicate  to  each  other  that  enemies  are  in  the  country. 
It  is  a signal  of  ancient  and  very  universal  application  among  barbarians. 

Examining  into  the  'condition  of  the  animals  when  I returned  into  the 
camp,  I found  their  feet  so  much  cut  up  by  the  rocks,  and  so  many  of 
them  lame,  that  it  was  evidently  impossible  that  they  could  cross  the  coun- 
try to  the  Rocky  mountains.  Every  piece  of  iron  that  could  be  used  for  the 
purpose  ha^  been  converted  into*  nails,  and  we  could  make  no  further  use 
of  the  shoes  we  had  remaining.  I therefore  determined  to  abandon  my 
eastern  course,  and  to  cross  the  Sierra  Nevada  into  the  valley  of  the  Sacra- 
mento, wherever  a practicable  pass  could  be  found.  My  decision  was  heard 
with  joy  by  the  people,  and  diffused  new  life  throughout  the  camp. 

Latitude,  by  observation,  39°  24'  16 

January  19. — A great  number  of  smokes  are  still  visible  this  morning, 
attesting  at  once  the  alarm  which  our  appearance  had  spread  among  these 
people,  and  their  ignorance  of  us.  If  they  knew  the  whites,  they  would 
understand  that  their  only  object  in  coming  among  them  was  to  trade,  which 
required  peace  and  friehdship ; but  they  have  nothing  to  trade — conse- 
quently, nothing  to  attract  the  white  man  ; hence  their  fear  and  flight. 

At  daybreak  we  had  a heavy  snow ; but  sat  out,  and,  returning  up  the 
stream,  went  out  of  our  way  in  a circuit  over  a little  mountain  ; and  en- 
camped on  the  same  stream,  a few  miles  above,  in  latitude  39°  19'  21"  by 
observation. 

January  20. — To-day  we  continued  up  the  stream,  and  encamped  on  it 
close  to  the  mountains.  The  freshly  fallen  snow  was  covered  with  the 
tracks  of  Indians,  who  had  descended  from  the  upper  waters,  probably 
called  down  by  the  smokes  in  the  plain.  • 

We  ascended  a peak  of  the  range,  which  commanded  a view  of  this  stream 
behind  the  first  ridge,  where  it  was  winding  its  course  through  a somewhat 
open  valley,  and  I sometimes  regret  thatT  did  not  make  the  trial  to  cross 
here  ; but  while  we  had  fair  weather  below,  the  mountains  were  darkened 
with  falling. snow,  and,  feeling  unwilling  to  encounter  them,  we  turned 
away  again  to  the  southward.  In  that  direction  we  travelled  the  next  day 
over  a tolerably  level  country,  having  always  the  high  mountains  on  the 
west.  There  was  but  little  snow  or  rock  on  the  ground  ; and,  after  having 
travelled  24  miles,  we  encamped  again  on  another  large  stream,  running 
off  to  the  northward  and  eastward,  to  meet  that  we  had  left.  It  ran  through 
broad  bottoms,  having  a fine  meadow-land  appearance. 

Latitude  39°  0T  53". 

January  22. — We  travelled  up  the  stream  for  about  14  miles  to  the  foot 
of  the  mountains,  from  which  one  branch  issued  in  the  southwest,  the 
other  flowing  from  SSE.  along  their  base.  Leaving  the  camp  below, 


221 


C 174  ] 

we  ascended  the  range  through  which  the  first  stream  passed,  in  a canon  • 
on  the  western  side  was  a circular  valley,  about  15  miles  long,  through 
which  the  stream  wound  its  way,  issuing  from  a gorge  in  the  main  moun- 
tain, which  rose  abruptly  beyond.  The  valley  looked  yellow  with  faded 
grass  ; and  the  trail  we  had  followed  was  visible,  making  towards  the  gorge, 
and  this  was  evidently  a pass  ; but  again,  while  all  was  bright  sunshine  on 
the  ridge  and  on  the  valley  where  we  were,  the  snow'  was  falling  heavily 
in  the  mountains.  I determined  to  go  still  to  the  southward,  and  encamp- 
ed on  the  stream  near  the  forks  ; the  animals  being  fatigued  and  the 
grass  tolerably  good. 

The  rock  of  the  ridge  we  had  ascended  is  a compact  lava,  assuming  a 
granitic  appearance  and  structure,  and  ^containing,  in  some  places,  small 
nodules  of  obsidian.  So  far  as  composition  and  aspect  are  concerned,  the 
rock  in  other  parts  of  the  ridge  appears  to  be  grantte  ; but  it  is  probable 
that  this  is  only  a compact  form  of  lava  of  recent  origin. 

By  observation,  the  elevation  of  the  encampment  was  5,020  feet ; and 
the  latitude  38°  49'  54". 

January  23. — We  moved  along  the  course  of  the  other  brarfch  towards 
the  southeast,  the  country  affording  a fine  road  ; and,  passing  some  slight 
dividing  grounds,  descended  towards  the  valley  of  another  stream.  There 
was  a somewhat  rough-looking  mountain  ahead,  which  it  appeared  to  issue 
from,  or  to  enter — we  could  not  tell  which  ; and  as  the  course  of  the  valley 
and  the  inclination  of  the  ground  had  a favorable  direction,  we  were 
sanguine  to  find  here  a branch  of  the  Buenaventura  ; but  were  again  dis- 
appointed, finding  it  an  inland  water,  on  which  we  encamped  after  a day’s 
journey  of  24  miles.  It  was  evident  that,  from  the  time  we  descended  into 
the  plain  at  Summer  lake,  we  had  been  flanking  the  great  range  of  moun- 
tains which  divided  the  Great  Basin  from  the  waters  of  the  Pacific;  and 
that  the  continued  succession,  and  almost  connexion,  of  lakes  and  rivers 
which  we  encountered,  were  the  drainings  of  that  range.  Its  rains,  springs, 
and  snow's,  would  sufficiently  account  for  these  lakes  and  streams,  numer- 
ous as  they  were. 

January  24. — A man  was  discovered  running  towards  the  camp  as  we 
were  about  to  start  this  morning,  who  proved  to  be  an  Indian  of  rather  ad- 
vanced age — a sort  of  forlorn  hope,  who  seemed  to  have  been  worked  up 
into  the  resolution  of  visiting  the  strangers  who  were  passing  through  the 
country.  He  seized  the  hand  of  the  first  man  he  met  as  he  came  up,  out 
of  breath,  and  held  on,  as  if  to  assure  himself  of  protection.  He  brought 
with  him  in  a little  skin  bag  a few  pounds  of  the  seeds  of  a pine  tree,  which 
to-day  we  saw  for  the  first  time,  and  which  Dr.  Torrey  has  described  as  a 
new  species,  under  the  name  of  pinus  monophyllus  ; in  popular  language, 
it  might  be  called  the  nut  pine.  We  purchased  them  all  from  him.  The 
nut  is  oily,  of  very  agreeable  flavor,  and  must  be  very  nutritious,  as  it 
constitutes  the  principal  subsistence  of  the  tribes  among  which  w'e  were  now 
travelling.  By  a present  of  scarlet  cloth,  and  other  striking  articles,  we 
prevailed  upon  this  man  to  be  our  guide  of  two  days’  journey.  As  clearly 
as  possible  by  signs,  wTe  made  him  understand  our  object ; and  he  engaged 
to  conduct  us  in  sight  of  a good  pass  which  he  knew.  Here  we  ceased  to 
hear  the  Shoshonee  language  ; that  of  this  man  being  perfectly  unintelli- 
gible. Several  Indians,  who  had  been  waiting  to  see  what  reception  he 
would  meet  with,  now  came  into  camp;  and,  accompanied  by  the  new 
comers,  we  resumed  our  journey. 


222 


[ 174  ] 

The  road  led  us  up  the  creek,  which  here  becomes  a rather  rapid  moun- 
tain stream,  fifty  feet  wide,  between  dark-looking  hills  without  snow;  but 
immediately  beyond  them  rose  snowy  mountains  on  either  side,  timbered 
principally  with  the  nut  pine.  On  the  lower  grounds,  the  general  height 
of  this  tree  is  twelve  to  twenty  feet,  and  eight  inches  the  greatest  diameter ; 
it  is  rather  branching,  and  has  a peculiar  and  singular  but  pleasant  odor. 
We  followed^ the  river  for  only  a short  distance  along  a rocky  trail,  and 
crossed  it  at  a dam  which  the  Indians  made  us  comprehend  had  been  built 
to  catch  salmon  trout.  The  snow  and  ice  were  heaped  up  against  it  three 
or  four  feet  deep  entirely  across  the  stream. 

Leaving  here  the  stream,  which  runs  through  impassable  canons,  we  con- 
tinued our  road  over  a very  broken  country,  passing  through  a low  gap  be- 
tween the  snowy  mountains.  The  rock  which  occurs  immediately  in  the 
pass  has  the  appearanc^of  impure  sandstone,  Containing  scales  of  black 
mica.  Tnis  may  be  only  a stratified  lava  ; on  issuing  from  the  gap,  the 
compact  lava,  and  other  volcanic  products  usual  in  the  country,  again  oc- 
curred. We  descended  from  the  gap  into  a wide  valley,  or  rather  basin,  and 
encamped  o#  a small  tributary  to  the  last  stream,  on  which  there  was  very 
good  grass.  It  was  covered  with  such  thick  ice,  that  it  required  some  labor 
with  pickaxes  to  make  holes  for  the  animals  to  drink.  The  banks  are 
lightly  wooded  with  willow,  and  on  the  upper  bottoms  are  sage  and  Fre- 
montia  with  ephedra  occidentalism  which  begins  to  occur  more  frequently. 
The  day  has  been  a summer  one,  warm  and  pleasant ; no  snow  on  the  trail, 
which,  as  we  are  all  on  foot,  makes  travelling  more  agreeable.  The  hunt- 
ers went  into  the  neighboring  mountains,  but  found  no  game.  We  have 
five  Indians  in  camp  to-night. 

January  25. — The  morning  was  cold  and  bright,  and  as  the  sun  rose  the 
day  became  beautiful.  A party  of  twelve  Indians  came  down  from  the 
mountains  to  trade  pine  nuts,  of  which  each  one  carried  a little  bag.  These 
seemed  now  to  be  the  staple  of  the  country ; and  whenever  we  met  an  In- 
dian, his  friendly  salutation  consisted  in  offering  a few’  nuts  to  eat  and  to 
trade  ; their  only  arms  were  bows  and  flint-pointed  arrows.  It  appeared 
that,  in  almost  all  the  valleys,  the  neighboring  bands  were  at  war  with  each 
other  ; and  we  had  some  difficulty  in  prevailing  on  our  guides  to  accompany 
us  on  this  day’s  journey,  being  at  war  with  the  people  on  the  other  side 
of  a large  snowy  mountain  which  lay  before  us. 

The  general  level  of  the  country  appeared*to  be  getting  higher,  and  we 
were  gradually  entering  the  heart  of  the  mountains.  Accompanied  by  all 
the  Indians,  we  ascended  a long  ridge,  and  reached  a pure  spring  at  the 
edge  of  the  timber,  where  the  Indians  had  waylaid  and  killed  an  antelope, 
and  where  the  greater  part  of  them  left  us.  Our  pacific  conduct  had  quieted 
their  alarms  ; and  though  at  war  among  each  other,  yet  all  confided  in  us. 
Thanks  to  the  combined  effects  of  power  and  kindness — for  our  arms  in- 
spired respect,  and  our  little  presents  and  good  treatment  conciliated  their 
confidence.  Here  we  suddenly  entered  snow  six  inches  deep,  and  the 
ground  was  a little  rocky  with  volcanic  fragments,  the  mountain  appearing 
to  be  composed  of  such  i*ock.  The  timber  consists  principally  of  nut  pines, 
( pinus  monophylluSm)  which  here  are  of  larger  size — 12  to  15  inches  in 
diameter  ; heaps  of  cones  lying  on  the  ground,  w^bere  the  Indians  have 
gathered  the  seeds. 

The  snow  deepened  gradually  as  wTe  advanced.  Our  guides  wore  out 
their  moccasins;  and,  putting  one  ofthemonahorse?weenjoyed  the  unusual 


223 


[ 174  ] 

sight  of  an  Indian  who  could  not  ride.  He  could  not  even  guide  the  ani- 
mal, and  appeared  to  have  no  knowledge  of  horses.  The  snow  was  three 
or  four  feet  deep  in  the  summit  of  the  pass  ; and  from  this  point  the  guide 
pointed  out  ouy  future  road,  declining  to  go  any  further.  Below  us  was  a 
little  valley ; and  beyond  this,  the  mountains  rose  higher  stifcl,  one  ridge 
above  another,  presenting  a rude  and  rocky  outline.  We  descended  rap- 
idly to  the  valley  ; the  snow  impeded  us  but  little  ; yet  it  was  dark  when 
wre  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain. 

The  day  had  been  so  warm,  that  our  moccasins  were  wet  with  melting 
snow7 ; but  here,  as  soon  as  the  sun  begins  to  decline,  the  air  gets  suddenly 
cold,  and  we  had  great  difficulty  to  keep  our  feet  from  freezing — our  moc-> 
casins  being  frozen  perfectly  stiff.  After  a hard  day’s  march  of  27  miles, 
we  reached  the  river  some  time  after  dark,  and  found  the  snow  about  a foot 
deep  on  the  bottom — the  river  being  entirely  frozen  over.  We  found 
a comfortable  camp,  where  there  were  dry  willows  abundant,  and  we  soon 
had  blazing  fires.  A little  brandy,  which  I husbanded  with  great  care, 
remained,  and  I do  not  know  any  medicine  more  salutary,  or  any  drink 
(except  coffee)  more  agreeable,  than  this  in  a cold  night  after  a hard  day’s 
march.  Mr.  Preuss  questioned  whether  the  famed  nectar  even  possessed, 
so  exquisite  a flavor.  Ail  felt  it  to  be  a reviving  cordial. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  sun  had  not  yet  risen  over  the  mountains, 
the  thermometer  was  2°  below  zero  ; but  the  sky  was  bright  and  pure,  and 
the  weather  changed  rapidly  into  a -pleasant  day  of  summer.  I remained 
encamped,  in  order  to  examine  the  country,  and  allow  the  animals  a day 
of  rest,  the  grass  being  good  and  abundant  under  the  snow. 

The  river  is  fifty  to  eighty  feet  wide,  with  a lively  current,  and  very 
clear  water.  It  forked  a little  above  our  camp,  one  of  its  branches  com- 
ing directly  from  the  south.  At  its  head  appeared  to  be  a handsome 
pass ; and  from  the  neighboring  heights  we  could  see,  beyond,  a compara- 
tively low  and  open  country,  which  was  supposed  to  form  the  valley  of  the 
Buenaventura.  The  other  branch  issued  from  a nearer  pass,  in  a direction 
S.  75°  W.,  forking  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  and  receiving  part  of  its 
waters  from  a little  lake.  I was  in  advance  of  the  camp  when  our  last 
guides  had  left  us;  but,  so  far  as  could  be  understood,  this  was  the  pass 
which  they  had  indicated,  and,  in  company  with  Carson,  to-day  I set  out 
to  explore  it.  Entering  the  range,  we  continued  in  a northwesterly  direc- 
tion up  the  valley,  which  here  bent  to  the  right.  It  was  a pretty,  open  bot- 
tom, locked  between  lofty  mountains,  which  supplied  frequent  streams  as 
we  advanced.  On  the  lower  part  they  were  covered  with  nut-pine  trees, 
and  above  with  masses  of  pine,  which  we  easily  recognised,  from  the  darker 
color  of  the  foliage.  From  the  fresh  trails  which  occurred  frequently  during 
the  morning,  deer  appeared  to  be  remarkably  numerous  in  the  mountain. 

We  had  now  entirely  left  the  desert  country,  and  were  on  the  verge  of 
a region  which,  extending  westward  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  abounds 
in  large  game,  and  is  covered  with  a singular  luxuriance  of  vegetable  life. 

The  little  stream  grew  rapidly  smaller,  and  in  about  twelve  miles  we 
had  reached  its  head,  the  last  water  coming  immediately  out  of  the  moun- 
tain on  the  right ; an<J  this  spot  was  selected  for  our  next  encampment. 
The  grass  showed  well  in  sunny  places  ; but  in  colder  situations  the  snow 
was  deep,  and  began  to  occur  in  banks,  through  which  the  horses  found 
some  difficulty  in  breaking  a way. 

To  the  left,  the  open  valley  continued  in  a southwesterly  direction,  with 


224 


[ 174  ] 

a scarcely  perceptible  ascent,  forming  a beautiful  pass ; the  exploration  of 
which  we  deferred  until  the  next  day,  and  returned  to  the  camp. 

To-day  an  Indian  passed  through  the  valley,  on  his  way  into  the  moun- 
tains, where  he  showed  us  was  his  lodge.  We  comprehended  nothing  of 
his  language ’and,  though  he  appeared  to  have  no  fear,  passing  along  in 
full  view  of  tne  camp,  he  was  indisposed  to  hold  any  communication  with 
us,  but  showed  the  way  he  was  going,  and  pointed  for  us  to  go  on  our  road. 

By  observation,  the  latitude  of  this  encampment  was  38°  18'  01",  and 
the  elevation  above  the  sea  6,310  feet. 

January  27. — Leaving  the  camp  to  follow  slowly,  with  directions  to 
Carson  to  encamp  at  the  place  agreed  on,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  myself  con- 
tinued the  reconnoissance.  x\rriving  at  the  head  of  the  stream,  we  began 
to  enter  the  pass — passing  occasionally  through  open  groves  of  large  pine 
trees,  on  the  warm  side  of  the  defile,  where  the  snow  had  melted  away, 
occasionally  exposing  a large  Indian  trail.  Continuing  along  a narrow 
meadow,  we  reached  in  a few  miles  the  gate  of  the  pass,  where  there  was 
a narrow  strip  of  prairie,  about  fifty  yards  wide,  between  walls  of  granite 
rock.  On  either  side  rose  the  mountains,  forming  on  the  left  a rugged 
mass,  or  nucleus,  wholly  covered  with  deep  snow,  presenting  a glittering 
and  icy  surface.  At  the  time,  we  supposed  this  to  be  the  point  into  which 
they  were  gathered  between  the  two  great  rivers,  and  from  which  the 
waters  flowed  off  to  the  bay.  This  was  the  icy  and  cold  side  of  the  pass, 
and  the  rays  of  the  sun  hardly  touched  the  snow.  On  the  left,  the  moun- 
tains rose  into  peaks;  but  they  were  lower  ancf  secondary, and  the  country 
had  a somewhat  more  open  and  lighter  character.  On  the  right  were  sev- 
eral hot  springs,  w7hich  appeared  remarkable  in  such  a place.  In  going 
through,  we  felt  impressed  by  the  majesty  of  the  mountain,  along  the  huge 
wall  of  which  we  were  riding.  Here  there  was  no  snow  ; but  immedi- 
ately beyond  was  a deep  bank,  through  w hich  we  dragged  our  horses  with 
considerable  effort.  We  then  immediately  struck  upon  a stream,  which 
gathered  itself  rapidly,  and  descended  quick;  and  the  valley  did  not  pre- 
serve the  open  character  of  the  other  side,  appearing  below  to  form  a 
canon.  We  therefore  climbed  one  of  the  peaks  on  the  right,  leaving  our 
horses  below ; but  w7e  were  so  much  shut  up,  that  we  did  not  obtain  an 
extensive  view,  and  w7hat  we  saw7  was  not  very  satisfactory,  and  awakened 
considerable  doubt.  The  valley  of  the  stream  pursued  a northwesterly 
direction,  appearing  below  to  turn  sharply  to  the  right,  beyond  which  fur- 
ther view  was  cut  off.  It  was,  nevertheless,  resolved  to  continue  our  road 
the  next  day  down  this  valley,  which  we  trusted  still  w7ould  prove  that  of 
the  middle  stream  between  the  two  great  rivers.  Towards  the  summit  of 
this  peak,  the  fields  of  snow7  w7ere  four  or  five  feet  deep  on  the  northern 
side;  and  w7e  saw  several  large  hares,  w7hich  had  on  their  winter  color,, 
being  white  as  the  snow  around  them. 

The  winter  day  is  short  in  the  mountains,  the  sun  having  but  a small 
space  of  sky  to  travel  over  in  tbe  visible  part  above  our  horizon ; and  the 
moment  his  rays  are  gone,  the  air  is  keenly  cold.  The  interest  of  our 
work  had  detained  us  long,  and  it  was  after  nightfall  when  we  reached 
the  camp. 

January  28. — To-day  we  went  through  the  pass  w ith  all  the  camp,  and, 
after  a hard  day’s  journey  of  twelve  miles,  encamped  on  a high  point  where 
the  snow  had  been  blown  off,  and  the  exposed  grass  afforded  a scanty  pas- 
ture for  the  animals.  Snow7  and  broken  country  together  made  our  travel- 


225 


[ 174  J 

ling  difficult : we  were  often  compelled  to  make  large  circuits,  and  ascend 
the  highest  and  most  exposed  ridges,  in  order  to  avoid  snow,  which  in 
other  places  was  banked  up  to  a great  depth. 

During  the  day  a few  Indians  were  seen  circling  around  us  on  snow 
shoes,  and  skimming  along  like  birds  ; but  we  could  not  bring  them  with- 
in speaking  distance.  Godey,  who  was  a little  distance  from  the  camp,  had 
sat  down  to  tie  his  moccasins,  when  he  heard  a low  whistle  near,  and,  look- 
ing up,  saw  two  Indians  half  hiding  behind  a rock  about  forty  yards  distant  ; 
they  would  notallow  him  to  approach,  but,  breaking  into  a laugh,  skimmed 
off  over  the  snow,  seeming  to  have  no  idea  of  the  power  of  fire  arms,  and  * 
thinking  themselves  perfectly  safe  when  beyond  arm’s  length. 

To-night  we  did  not  succeed  in  getting  the  howhzer  into  camp.  This 
was  the  most  laborious  day  we  had  yet  passed  through  ; the  steep  ascents 
and  deep  snow  exhausting  both  men  and  animals.  Our  single  chronometer 
had  stopped  during  the  day,  and  its  error  in  time  occasioned  the  loss  of  an 
eclipse  of  a satellite  this  evening.  It  had  not  preserved  the  rate  with 
which  we  started  from  the  Dalles,  and  this  will  account  for  the  absence 
of  longitudes  along  this  interval  of  our  journey. 

January  29. — From  this  height  we  could  see,  at  a considerable  distance 
below,  yellow  spots  in  the  valley,  which  indicated  that  there  was  not  much 
snow.  One  of  these  places  we  expected  to  reach  to-night ; and  some  time 
being  required  to  bring  up  the  gun,  I went  ahead  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and 
a few  men,  leaving\the  camp  to  follow,  in  charge  of  Mr.  Preuss.  YVe  fol- 
lowed a trail  down  a hollow  where  the  Indians  had  descended,  the  snow 
being  so  deep  that  we  never  came  near  the  ground  ; but  this  only  made  our 
descent  the  easier,  and,  wThen  we  reached  a little  affluent  to  the  river  at  the 
bottom,  we  suddenly  found  ourselves  in  presence  of  eight  or  ten  Indians. 
They  seemed  to  be  watching  our  motions,  and,  like  the  others,  at  first  were 
indisposed  to  let  us  approach,  ranging  themselves  like  birds  on  a fallen 
log  on  the  hill  side  above  our  heads,  where,  being  out  of  reach,  they 
thought  themselves  safe.  Our  friendly  demeanor  reconciled  them,  and,, 
when  we  got  near  enough,  they  immediately  stretched  out  to  us  handfulls 
of  pine  nuts,  which  seemed  an  exercise  of  hospitality.  We  made  them  a 
few  presents,  and,  telling  us  that  their  village  was  a few  miles  below,  they 
went  on  to  let  their  people  know  what  we  wTere.  The  principal  stream 
still  running  through  an  impracticable  canon,  we  ascended  a very  steep  hill,, 
which  proved  afterwards  the  last  and  fatal  obstacle  to  our  little  howitzer, 
which  was  finally  abandoned  at  this  place.  We  passed  through  a small 
meadow  a few  miles  below,  crossing  the  river,  which  depth,  swift  current,, 
and  rock,  made  it  difficult  to  ford  ; and,  after  a few  more  miles  of  very  dif- 
ficult trail,  issued  into  a larger  prairie  bottom,  at  the  farther  end  of  which 
we  encamped,  in  a position  rendered  strong  by  rocks  and  trees.  The  lower 
parts  of  the  mountain  were  covered  with  the  nut  pine.  Several  Indians 
appeared  on  the  hill  side,  reconnoitring  the  camp,  and  were  induced  to 
come  in  ; others  came  injuring  the  afternoon  ; and  in  the  evening  we  held 
a council.  The  Indians  immediately  made  it  clear  that  the  waters  on  which 
we  were  also  belong  to  the  Great  Basin,  in  the  edge  of  which  we  had 
been  since  the  17th  of  December ; and  it  became  evident  that  we  had  still 
the  great  ridge  on  the  left  to  cross  before  we  could  reach  the  Pacific  waters* 

We  explained  to  the  Indians  that  we  were  endeavoring  to  find  a passage 
across  the  mountains  into  the  country  of  the  whites,  whom  we  were  going 
to  see  j and  told  them  that  we  wished  them  to  bring  us  a guide,  to  whom  we 


would  give  presents  of  scarlet  cloth,  and  other  articles,  which  were  shown 
to  them.  They  looked  at  the  reward  we  offered,  and  conferred  with  each 
other,  but  pointed  to  the  snow  on  the  mountain,  and  drew  their  hands 
across  their  necks,  and  raised  them  above  their  heads,  to  show  the  depth  ; 
and  signified  that  it  was  impossible  for  us  to  get  through.  They  made 
signs  that  we  must  go  to  the  southward,  over  a pass  through  a lower  range, 
which  they  pointed  out ; there,  they  said,  at  the  end  of  one  day’s  travel,  we 
would  find  people  who  lived  near  a pass  in  the  great  mountain  ; and  to  that 
point  they  engaged  to  furnish  us  a guide.  They  appeared  to  have  a con- 
fused idea,  from  report,  of  whites  who  lived  on  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain ; and  once,  they  told  us,  about  two  years  ago,  a party  of  twelve  men 
like  ourselves  had  ascended  their  river,  and  crossed  to  the  other  waters. 
They  pointed  out  to  us  where  they  had  crossed  ; but  then,  they  said,  it 
was  summer  time  ; but  now  it  would  be  impossible.  I believe  that  this 
was  a part)  led  by  Mr.  Chiles,  one  of  the  only  two  men  'whom  1 know  to 
have  passed  through  the  California  mountains  from  the  interior  of  the  Ba- 
sin— Walker  being  the  other  ; and  both  were  engaged  upwards  of  twenty 
days,  in  the  summer  time,  in  getting  over.  Chiles’s  destination  was  the  bay 
of  San  Francisco,  to  which  he  descended  by  the  Stanislaus  river ; and  Walk- 
er subsequently  informed  me  that,  like  myself,  descending  to  the  southward 
on  a more  eastern  line,  day  after  day  he  vras  searching  for  the  Buenaven- 
tura, thinking  that  he  had  found  it  with  every  new7  stream,  until,  like  me, 
he  abandoned  ail  idea  of  its  existence,  and,  turning  abruptly  to  the  right, 
crossed  the  great  chain.  These  were  both  western  men,  animated  with 
the  spirit  of  exploratory  enterprise  which  characterizes  that  people. 

The  Indians  brought  in  during  the  evening  an  abundant  supply  of  pine 
nuts,  which  we  traded  from  them.  When  roasted,  their  pleasant  flavor 
made  them  an  agreeable  addition  to  our  now  scanty  store  of  provisions, 
which  were  reduced  to  a very  low  ebb.  Our  principal  stock  was  in  peas, 
which  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  contain  scarcely  any  nutriment.  We  had 
still  a little  flour  left,  some  coffee,  and  a quantity  of  sugar,  which  I re- 
served as  a defence  against  starvation. 

The  Indians  informed  us  that  at  certain  seasons  they  have  fish  in  their 
waters,  which  we  supposed  to  be  salmon  trout ; for  the  remainder  of  the 
year  they  live  upon  the  pine  nuts,  which  form  their  great  winter  subsist- 
ence— a portion  being  always  at  hand,  shut  up  in  the  natural  storehouse 
of  the  cones.  At  present,  they  were  presented  to  us  as  a whole  people 
living  upon  this  simple  vegetable. 

The  other  division  of  the  party  did  not  come  in  to-night,  but  encamped 
in  the  upper  meadow,  and  arrived  the  next  morning.  They  had  not  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  howitzer  beyond  the  place  mentioned,  and  where  it 
had  been  left  by  Mr.  Preuss  in  obedience  to  my  orders  ; and,  in  anticipation 
cf  the  snow  banks  and  snow  fields  still  ahead,  foreseeing  the  inevitable  de- 
tention to  which  it  would  subject  us,  I reluctantly  determined  to  leave  it 
there  for  the  time.  It  was  of  the  kind  invented  by  the  French  for  the 
-mountain  part  of  their  war  in  Algiers  ; and  the  distance  it  had  come  with 
ms  proved  how  well  it  was  adapted  to  its  purpose.  We  left  it,  to  the  great 
sorrow  of  the  whole  party,  who  were  grieved  to  part  with  a companion 
which  had  made  the  whole  distance  from  St.  Louis,  and  commanded  re- 
spect for  us  on  some  critical  occasions,  and  which  might  be  needed  for  the 
game  purpose  again. 

January  30. — Our  guide,  who  was  a young  man,  joined  us  this  mom- 


227 


[ ] 

ing  ; and,  leavingour  encampment  late  in  the  day,  we  descended  the  river, 
which  immediately  opened  out  into  a broad  valley,  furnishing  good  travel- 
ling ground.  In  a short  distance  we  passed  the  village,  a collection  of 
straw  huts;  and  a few  miles  below,  the  guide  pointed  out  the  place  where 
the  whites  had  been  encamped  before  they  entered  the  mountain.  With 
our  late  start  we  made  but  ten  miles,  and  encamped  on  the  low  river  bot- 
tom, where  there  was  no  snow,  but  a great  deal  of  ice  ; and  we  cut  piles  of 
long  grass  to  lay  under  our  blankets,  and  fires  were  made  of  large  dry  wil- 
lows, groves  of  which  wooded  the  stream.  The  river  took  here  a north- 
easterly direction,  and  through  a spur  from  the  mountains  on  the  left  was 
the  gap  where  we  were  to  pass  the  next  day. 

January  31 . — We  took  our  way  over  a gently  rising  ground,  the  dividing 
ridge  being  tolerably  low ; and  travelling  easily  along  a broad  trail,  in 
twelve  or  fourteen  miles  reached  the  upper  part  of  the  pass,  when  it  began 
to  snow  thickly,  with  very  cold  weather.  The  Indians  had  only  the 
usual  scanty  covering,  and  appeared  to  suffer  greatly  from  the  cold.  AIL 
left  us,  except  our  guide.  Hal# hidden  by  the  storm,  the  mountains  looked 
dieary  ; and,  as  night  began  to  approach,  the  guide  showed  great  reluctance 
to  go  forward.  I placed  him  between  two  rifles,  for  the  way  began  to  be 
difficult.  Travelling  a little  farther,  we  struck  a ravine,  which  the  Indian 
said  would  conduct  us  to  the  river ; and  as  the  poor  fellow  suffered  greatly, 
shivering  in  the  snow  which  fell  upon  his  naked  skin,  I would  not  detain 
him  any  longer ; and  he  ran  off  to  the  mountain,  where  he  said  there  was 
a hut  near  by.  He  had  kept  the  blue  and  scarlet  cloth  i had  given  him 
tighly  rolled  up,  preferring  rather  to  endure  the  cold  than  to  get  them  wet. 
In  the  course  of  .the  afternoon,  one  of  the  men  had  his  foot  frost  bitten  y 
and  about  dark  we  had  the  satisfaction  to  reach  the  bottoms  of  a stream 
timbered  with  large  trees,  among  which  we  found  a sheltered  camp,  with  an 
abundance  of  such  grass  as  the  season  afforded  for  the  animals.  We  saw 
before  us,  in  descending  from  the  pass, a great  continuous  range, along  which 
stretched  the  valley  of  the  river ; the  lower  parts  steep,  and  dark  with  pines* 
while  above  it  was  hidden  in  clouds  of  snow.  This  we  felt  instantly  satis- 
fied was  the  central  ridge  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  the  great  California  moun- 
tain, which  only  now  intervened  between  us  and  the  waters  of  the  bay.  We 
had  made  a forced  march  of  26  miles,  and  three  mules  had  given  out  on 
the  road.  Up  to  this  point,  with  the  exception  of  two  stolen  by  Indians, 
we  had  lost  none  of  the  horses  which  had  been  brought  from  the  Columbia 
river,  and  a number  of  these  were  still  strong  and  in  tolerably  good  order,. 
We  had  now  67  animals  in  the  band. 

We  had  scarcely  lighted  our  fires,  when  the  camp  was  crowded  with 
nearly  naked  Indians;  some  of  them  were  furnished  with  long  nets  in  ad- 
dition to  bows,  and  appeared  to  have  been  out  on  the  sage  hills  to  hunt 
rabbits.  These  nets  were  perhaps  30  to  40  feet  long,  kept  upright  in  the 
ground  by  slight  sticks  at  intervals,  and  were  made  from  a kind  of  wild 
hemp,  very  much  resembling  in  manufacture  those  common  among  the 
Indians  of  the  Sacramento  valley.  They  came  among  us  without  any 
fear,  and  scattered  themselves  about  the  fires,  mainly  occupied  in  gratifying 
their  astonishment.  I was  struck  by  the  singular  appearance  of  a row  of 
about  a dozen,  who  were  sitting  on  their  haunches  perched  on  a log  near 
one  of  the  fires,  with  their  quick  sharp  eyes  following  every  motion. 

We  gathered  together  a few  of  the  most  intelligent  of  the  Indians,  and 
held  this  evening  an  interesting  council.  I explained  to  them  my  inten- 


228 


[ 174  ] 

tions.  1 told  them  that  we  had  come  from  a very  far  country,  having  been 
travelling  now  nearly  a year,  and  that  we  were  desirous  simply  to  go  across 
the  mountain  into  the  country  of  the  other  whites.  There  were  two  who 
appeared  particularly  intelligent — one,  a somewhat  old  man.  He  told  me 
that,  before  the  snows  fell,  it  was  six  sleeps  to  the  place  where  the  whites 
lived,  but  that  now  it  was  impossible  to  cross  the  mountain  on  account  of 
the  deep  snow ; and  showing  us,  as  the  others  had  done,  that  it  was  over 
our  heads,  he  urged  us  strongly  to  follow  the  course  of  the  river,  which  he 
said  would  conduct  us  to  a lake  in  which  there  were  many  large  fish. 
There,  he  said,  were  many  people  ; there  was  no  snow  on  the  ground  ; 
and  we  might  remain  there  until  the  spring.  From  their  descriptions,  we 
were  enabled  to  judge  that  we  had  encamped  on  the  upper  water  of  the 
Salmon  Trout  river.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  our  communication 
was  only  by  signs,  as  we  understood  nothing  of  their  language  ; but  they 
spoke,  notwithstanding,  rapidly  and  vehemently,  explaining  what  they  con- 
sidered the  folly  of  our  intentions,  and  urging  us  to  go  down  to  the  lake. 
Tah-ve , a word  signifying  snow,  we  very  soon  learned  to  know,  from  its 
frequent  repetition.  I told  him  that  the  men  and  the  horses  were  strong, 
and  that  wTe  would  break  a road  through  the  snow  ; and  spreading  be- 
fore him  our  bales  of  scarlet  cloth,  and  trinkets,  showed  him  what  we 
would  give  for  a guide.  It  was  necessary  to  obtain  one,  if  possible  ; for  I 
had  determined  here  to  attempt  the  passage  of  the  mountain.  Pulling  a 
bunch  of  grass  from  the  ground,  after  a short  discussion  among  themselves, 
the  old  man  made  us  comprehend,  that  if  we  could  breakthrough  the  snow, 
at  the  end  of  three  days  we  would  come  down  upon  grass,  which  he 
showed  us  would  be  about  six  inches  high,  and  where  the  ground  was  en- 
tirely free.  So  far, he  said,  he  had  been  in  hunting  for  elk ; but  beyond  that, 
(and  he  closed  his  eyes)  he  had  seen  nothing;  but  there  was  one  among 
them  who  had  been  to  the  whites,  and,  going  out  of  the  lodge,  he  returned 
with  a young  man  of  very  intelligent  appearance.  Here,  said  he,  is  a 
young  man  who  has  seen  the  whites  with  his  own  eyes  ; and  he  swore, 
first  by  the  sky,  and  then  by  the  ground,  that  what  he  said  was  true.  With 
a large  present  of  goods,  we  prevailed  upon  this  young  man  to  be  our 
guide,  and  he  acquired  among  us  the  name  Melo — a word  signifying  friend, 
which  they  used  very  frequently.  He  was  thinly  clad,  and  nearly  barefoot ; 
his  moccasins  being  about  worn  out.  We  gave  him  skins  to  make  a new 
pair,  and  to  enable  him  to  perform  his  undertaking  to  us.  The  Indians  re- 
mained in  the  camp. during  the  night,  and  we  kept  the  guide  and  two  others 
to  sleep  in  the  lodge  with  us — Carson  lying  across  the  door,  and  having 
made  them  comprehend  the  use  of  our  fire  arms.  The  snow,  which  had 
intermitted  in  the  evening,  commenced  falling  again  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  and  it  snowed  steadily  all  day.  In  the  morning  I acquainted  the 
men  with  my  decision,  and  explained  to  them  that  necessity  required  us  to 
make  a great  effort  to  clear  the  mountains.  I reminded  them  of  the  beau- 
tiful valley  of  the  Sacramento,  with  which  they  were  familiar  from  the  de- 
scriptions of  Carson,  who  had  been  there  some  fifteen  years  ago,  and  who, 
in  our  late  privations,  had  delighted  us  in  speaking  of  its  rich  pastures  and 
abounding  game,  and  drew  a vivid  contrast  between  its  summer  climate, 
less  than  a hundred  miles  distant,  and  the  falling  snow  around  us.  I in- 
formed them  (and  long  experience  had  given  them  confidence  in  my  ob- 
servations and  good  instruments)  that  almost  directly  west,  and  only  about 
70  miles  distant,  was  the  great  farming  establishment  of  Captain  Sutter — a 


229 


[ 174  ] 

gentleman  who  had  formerly  lived  in  Missouri,  and,  emigrating  to  this 
country,  had  become  the  possessor  of  a principality.  I assured  them  that, 
from  the  heights  of  the  mountain  before  us,  we  should  doubtless  see  the 
valley  of  the  Sacramento  river,  and  with  one  effort  place  ourselves  again 
in  the  midst  of  plenty.  The  people  received  this  decision  with  the  cheer- 
ful obedience  which  had  always  characterized  them  ; and  the  day  was  im- 
mediately devoted  to  the  preparations  necessary  to  enable  us  to  carry  it  into 
effect.  Leggings,  moccasins,  clothing — all  were  put  into  the  best  state  to 
resist  the  cold.  Our  guide  was  not  neglected.  Extremity  of  suffering 
might  make  him  desert ; we  therefore  did  the  best  we  could  for  him.  Leg- 
gings, moccasins,  some  articles  of  clothing,  and  a large  green  blanket,  in 
addition  to  the  blue  and  scarlet  cloth,  were  lavished  upon  him,  and  to  his 
great  and  evident  contentment.  He  arrayed  himself  in  all  his  colors  ; and, 
clad  in  green,  blue,  and  scarlet,  he  made  a gay-looking  Indian ; and,  with 
his  various  presents,  was  probably  richer  and  better  clothed  than  any  of 
his  tribe  had  ever  been  before. 

I have  already  said  that  our  provisions  were  very  low;  we  had  neither 
tallow  nor  grease  of  any  kind  remaining,  and  the  want  of  salt  became  one 
of  our  greatest  privations.  The  poor  dog  which  had  been  found  in  the 
Bear  river  valley,  and  which  had  been  a compagnon  de  voyage  ever  since, 
had  now  become  fat,  and  the  mess  to  which  it  belonged  requested  permis- 
sion to  kill  it.  Leave  was  granted.  Spread  out  on  the  snow,  the  meat 
looked  very  good ; and  it  made  a strengthening  meal  for  the  greater  part 
of  the  camp.  Indians  brought  in  two  or  three  rabbits  during  the  day, 
which  were  purchased  from  them. 

The  river  was  40  to  70  feet  wide,  and  now  entirely  frozen  over.  It  was 
wooded  with  large  cottonwood,  willow,  and  grain  de  boeuf.  By  observa- 
tion, the  latitude  of  this  encampment  was  38°  37'  18". 

February  2. — It  had  ceased  snowing,  and  this  morning  the  lower  air 
was  clear  and  frosty ; and  six  or  seven  thousand  feet  above,  the  peaks  of 
the  Sierra  now  and  then  appeared  among  the  rolling  clouds,  which  were 
rapidly  dispersing  before  the  sun.  Our  Indian  shook  his  head  as  he  pointed 
to  the  icy  pinnacles,  shooting  high  up  into  the  sky,  and  seeming  almost  im- 
mediately above  us.  Crossing  the  river  on  the  ice,  and  leaving  it  imme- 
diately, we  commenced  the  ascent  of  the  mountain  along  the  valley  of  a 
tributary  stream.  The  people  were  unusually  silent ; for  every  man  knew 
that  our  enterprise  was  hazardous,  and  the  issue  doubtful. 

The  snow  deepened  rapidly,  and  it  soonbecame  necessary  to  break  a road. 
For  this  service,  a party  of  ten  was  formed,  mounted  on  the  strongest 
horses  ; each  man  in  succession  opening  the  road  on  foot,  or  on  horseback, 
until  himself  and  his  horse  became  fatigued,  when  he  stepped  aside ; and, 
the  remaining  number  passing  ahead,  he  took  his  station  in  the  rear.  Leav- 
ing this  stream,  and  pursuing  a very  direct  course,  we  passed  over  an  inter- 
vening ridge  to  the  river  we  had  left.  On  the  way  we  passed  two  low 
huts  entirely  covered  with  snow,  which  might  very  easily  have  escaped 
observation.  A family  was  living  in  each  ; and  the  only  trail  I saw  in  the 
neighborhood  was  from  the  door  hole  to  a nut-pine  tree  near,  which  sup- 
plied them  with  food  and  fuel.  We  found  two  similar  huts  on  the  creek 
where  we  next  arrived  ; and,  travelling  a little  higher  up,  encamped  on  its 
banks  in  about  four  feet  depth  of  snow.  Carson  found  near,  an  open  hill 
side,  where  the  wind  and  the  sun  had  melted  the  snow,  leaving  exposed 
sufficient  bunch  grass  for  the  animals  to-night. 


230 


t 174  ] 

The  nut  pines  were  now  giving  way  to  heavy  timber,  and  there  were 
some  immense  pines  on  the  bottom,  around  the  roots  of  which  the  sun.  had 
melted  away  the  snow ; and  here  we  made  our  camps  and  built  huge  fires. 
To-day  we  had  travelled  sixteen  miles,  and  our  elevation  above  the  sea 
was  6,760  feet.  * 

February  3. — Turning  our  faces  directly  towards  the  main  chain,  we  as- 
cended an  open  hollow  along  a small  tributary  to  the  river,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  Indians,  issues  from  a mountain  to  the  south.  The  snow  was 
so  deep  in  the  hollow,  that  we  were  obliged  to  travel  along  the  steep  hill 
sides,  and  over  spurs,  where  wind  and  sun  had  in  places  lessened  the 
snow,  and  where  the  grass,  which  appeared  to  be  in  good  quality  along  the 
sides  of  the  mountains,  was  exposed.  We  opened  our  road  in  the  same 
way  as  yesterday,  but  made  only  seven  miles;  and  encamped  by  some 
springs  at  the  foot  of  a high  and  steep  hill,  by  which  the  hollow7  ascended 
to  another  basin  in  the  mountain.  The  little  stream  below7  was  entirely 
buried  in  snow’.  The  springs  were  shaded  by  the  boughs  of  a lofty  cedar, 
which  here  made  its  first  appearance;  the  usual  height  was  120  to  130 
feet,  and  one  that  was  measured  near  by  was  6 feet  in  diameter. 

There  being  no  grass  exposed  here,  the  horses  were  sent  back  to  that 
which  we  had  seen  a fewr  miles  below.  We  occupied  the  remainder  of  the 
day  in  beating  down  a road  to  the  foot  of  the  hill,  a mile  or  two  distant ; 
the  snow  being  beaten  down  when  moist,  in  the  warm  part  of  the  day,  and 
then  hard  frozen  at  night,  made  a foundation  that  would  bear  the  weight 
of  the  animals  the  next  morning.  During  the  day  several  Indians  joined 
us  on  snow  shoes.  These  were  made  of  a circular  hoop,  about  a foot  in 
diameter,  the  interior  space  being  filled  w7ith  an  open  network  of  bark. 

February  4. — I went  ahead  early  with  two  or  three  men,  each  w7ith  a 
led  horse,  to  break  the  road.  We  were  obliged  to  abandon  the  hollow  en- 
tirely, and  work  along  the  mountain  side,  which  was  very  steep,  and  the 
snow  covered  with  an  icy  crust.  We  cut  a footing  as  we  advanced,  and 
trampled  a road  through  for  the  animals  ; but  occasionally  one  plunged  out- 
side the  trail,  and  slided  along  the  field  to  the  bottom,  a hundred  yards  be- 
low. Late  in  the  day  we  reached  another  bench  in  the  hollow,  where,  in 
summer,  the  stream  passed  over  a small  precipice.  Here  was  a short  dis- 
tance of  dividing  ground  between  the  two  ridges,  and  beyond  an  open  ba- 
sin, some  ten  miles  across,  whose  bottom  presented  a field  of  snow.  At 
the  further  or  western  side  rose  the  middle  crest  of  the  mountain,  a dark- 
looking ridge  of  volcanic  rock. 

The  summit  line  presented  a range  of  naked  peaks,  apparently  destitute 
of  snow  and  vegetation;  but  below,  the  face  of  the  whole  country  was 
covered  with  timbeV  of  extraordinary  size.  Annexed  you  are  presented 
with  a view  of  this  ridge  from  a camp  on  the  western  side  of  the  basin. 

Towards  a pass  which  the  guide  indicated  here,  we  attempted  in  the  af- 
ternoon to  force  a road  ; but  after  a laborious  plunging  through  two  or 
three  hundred  yards,  our  best  horses  gave  out,  entirely  refusing  to  make 
any  further  effort ; and,  for  the  time,  we  were  brought  to  a stand.  The 
guide  informed  us  that  we  were  entering  the  deep  snow,  and  here  began 
the  difficulties  of  the  mountain  ; and  to  him,  and  almost  to  all,  our  enter- 
prise seemed  hopeless.  I returned  a short  distance  back,  to  the  break  in 
the  hollow,  where  1 met  Mr.  Fitzpatrick. 

The  camp  had  been  all  the  day  occupied  in  endeavoring  to  ascend  the 
hill,  but  only  the  best  horses  had  succeeded.  The  animals,  generally,  not 


231 


[ 174  3 

having  sufficient  strength  to  bring  themselves  up  without  the  packs ; and 
all  the  line  of  road  between  this  and  the  springs  was  strewed  with  camp 
stores  and  equipage,  and  horses  floundering  in  snow.  I therefore  imme- 
diately encamped  on  the  ground  with  my  own  mess,  which  was  in  ad- 
vance, and  directed  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  to  encamp  at  the  springs,  and  send  all 
the  animals,  in  charge  of  Tabeau,  with  a strong  guard,  back  to  the  place 
where  they  had  been  pastured  the  night  before.  Here  was  a small  spot 
of  level  ground,  protected  on  one  side  by  the  mountain,  and  on  the  other 
sheltered  by  a little  ridge  of  rock.  ' It  was  an  open  grove  of  pines,  which 
assimilated  in  size  to  the  grandeur  of  the  mountain,  being  frequently  six 
feet  in  diameter. 

To-night  we  had  no  shelter,  but  we  made  a large  fire  around  the  trunk 
of  one  of  the  huge  pines  ; and  covering  the  snow  with  small  boughs,  on 
which  we  spread  our  blankets,  soon  made  ourselves  comfortable.  The 
night  was  very  bright  and  clear,  though  the  thermometer  was  only  at  10°* 
A strong  wind,  which  sprang  up  at  sundown,  made  it  intensely  cold*;  and 
this  was  one  of  the  bitterest  nights  during  the  journey. 

Two  Indians  joined  our  party  here;  and  one  of  them,  an  old  man,  im- 
mediately began  to  harangue  us,  saying  that  ourselves  and  animals  would 
perish  in  the  snow7;  and  that  if  we  would  go  back,  he  would  show  us  an~ 
other  and  a better  way  across  the  mountain.  He  spoke  in  a very  loud 
voice,  and  there  was  a singular  repetition  of  phrases  and  arrangement  of 
words,  which  rendered  Lis  speech  striking,  and  not  unmusical. 

We  had  now  begun  to  understand  some  words,  and,  with  the  aid  of  signs,, 
easily  comprehended  the  old  man’s  simple  ideas.  “ Rock  upon  rock — rock 
upon  rock — snow  upon  snow — snow  upon  snow,”  said  he  ; u even  if  you 
get  over  the  snow,  you  w7ill  not  be  able  to  get  down  from  the  mountains.55 
He  made  us  the  sign  of  precipices,  and  showed  us  how  the  feet  of  the 
horses  would  slip,  and  throw  them  off  from  the  narrow  trails  which  led 
along  their  sides.  Our  Chinook,  w7ho  comprehended  even  more  readily 
than  ourselves,  and  believed  our  situation  hopeless,  covered  his  head  with 
his  blanket,  and  began  to  w7eep  and  lament.  “ I wanted  to  see  the  whites,53 
said  he  ; “I  came  away  from  my  own  people  to  see  the  whites,  and  I 
wouldn’t  care  to  die  among  them ; but  here” — and  he  looked  around  into 
the  cold  night  and  gloomy  forest,  and,  drawing  his  blanket  over  his  head,, 
began  again  to  lament,  f 

Seated  around  the  tree,  the  fire  illuminating  the  rocks  and  the  tall  bolls 
of  the  pines  round  about,  and  the  old  Indian  haranguing,  we  presented  a 
group  of  very  serious  faces. 

February  5. — The  night  had  been  too  cold  to  sleep,  and  we  were  up 
very  early.  Our  guide  was  standing  by  the  fire  with  all  his  finery  on* 
and  seeing  him  shiver  in  the  cold,  I threw  on  his  shoulders  one  of  my 
blankets.  We  missed  him  a few  minutes  afterwards,  and  never  saw  him 
again.  He  had  deserted.  His  bad  faith  and  treachery  were  in  perfect 
keeping  with  the  estimate  of  Indian  character,  which  a long  intercourse 
with  this  people  had  gradually  forced  upon  my  mind. 

While  a portion  of  the  camp  were  occupied  in  bringing  up  the  baggage 
to  this  point,  the  remainder  were  busied  in  making  sledges  and  snow  shoes* 

1 had  determined  to  explore  the  mountain  ahead,  and  the  sledges  were  to- 
be  used  in  transporting  the  baggage. 

The  mountains  here  consisted  wholly  of  a white  micaceous  granite. 


232 


L ] 

The  day  was  perfectly  clear,  and,  while  the  sun  was  in  the  sky,  warm 
and  pleasant. 

By  observation,  our  latitude  wTas  38°  42'  26" ; and  elevation,  by  the 
boiling  point,  7,400  feet. 

February  6. — Accompanied  by  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  I sat  out  to-day  with  a 
reconnoitring  party,  on  snowr  shoes.  We  marched  all  in  single  file,  tramp- 
ling the  snow  as  heavily  as  we  could.  Crossing  the  open  basin,  in  a march 
of  about  ten  miles  we  reached  the  top  of  one  of  the  peaks,  to  the  left  of 
the  pass  indicated  by  our  guide.  Far  below  us,  dimmed  by  the  distance, 
was  a large  snowless  valley,  bounded  on  the  western  side,  at  the  distance 
of  about  a hundred  miles,  by  a low  range  of  mountains,  which  Carson 
recognised  with  delight  as  the  mountains  bordering  the  coast.  u There,” 
said  he,  “is  the  little  mountain — it  is  15  years  ago  since  I saw  it;  but  I 
am  just  as  sure  as  if  I had  seen  it  yesterday.”  Between  us,  then,  and  this 
low  coast  range,  was  the  valley  of  the  Sacramento  ; and  no  one  who  had 
not  accompanied  us  through  the  incidents  of  our  life  for  the  last  few  months 
could  realize  the  delight  with  which  at  last  we  looked  down  upon  it.  At 
the  distance  of  apparently  30  miles  beyond  us  were  distinguished  spots  of 
prairie;  and  a dark  line,  which  could  be ‘traced  with  the  glass,  was  im- 
agined to  be  the  course  of  the  river;  but  we  were  evidently  at  a great 
height  above  the  valley,  and  between  us  and  the  plains  extended  miles 
of  snowy  fields  and  broken  ridges  of  pine-covered  mountains. 

It  was  late  in  the  day  when  we  turned  towards  the  camp  ; and  it  grew 
rapidly  cold  as  it  drew7  towards  night.  One  of  the  men  became  fatigued, 
and  his  feet  began  to  freeze,  and,  building  a fire  in  the  trunk  of  a dry  old 
cedar,  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  remained  with  him  until  his  clothes  could  be  dried, 
and  he  was  in  a condition  to  come  on.  After  a day’s  march  of  20  miles, 
we  straggled  into  camp,  one  after  another,  at  night  fall;  the  greater  num- 
ber excessively  fatigued,  only  two  of  the  party  having  ever  travelled  on 
snow  shoes  before. 

All  our  energies  were  now  directed  to  getting  our  animals  across  the 
snow  ; and  it  was  supposed  that,  after  all  the  baggage  had  been  drawn  with 
the  sleighs  over  the  trail  we  had  made,  it  would  be  sufficiently  hard  to 
bear  our  animals.  At  several  places,  between  this  point  and  the  ridge,  we 
had  discovered  some  grassy  spots,  where  the  wind  and  sun  had  dispersed 
the  snow  from  the  sides  of  the  hills,  and  these  were  to  form  resting  places 
to  support  the  animals  for  a night  in  their  passage  across.  On  our  way 
across,  we  had  set  on  fire  several  broken  stumps,  and  dried  trees,  to  melt 
holes  in  the  snow  for  the  camps.  Its  general  depth  was  5 feet;  but  we 
passed  over  places  where  it  was  20  feet  deep,  as  shown  by  the  trees. 

With  one  party  drawing  sleighs  loaded  with  baggage,  I advanced  to-day 
about  four  miles  along  the  trail,  and  encamped  at  the  first  grassy  spot,  where 
we  expected  to  bring  our  horses.  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  with  another  party,  re- 
mained behind,  to  form  an  intermediate  station  between  us  and  the  animals. 

February  8. — The  night  has  been  extremely  cold ; but  perfectly  still, 
and  beautifully  clear.  Before  the  sun  appeared  this  morning,  the  ther- 
mometer was  3°  below7  zero;  1°  higher,  when  his  rays  struck  the  lofty 
peaks  ; and  0°  when  they  reached  our  camp. 

Scenery  and  weather,  combined,  must  render  these  mountains  beautiful 
in  summer;  the  purity  and  deep-blue  color  of  the  sky  are  singularly  beau- 
tiful ; the  days  are  sunny  and  bright,  and  even  warm  in  the  noon  hours ; 
and  if  we  could  be  free  from  the  many  anxieties  that  oppress  us,  even  now 


233 


[ 174  ] 

we  would  be  delighted  here  ; but  our  provisions  are  gettingfearfully  scant. 
Sleighs  arrived  with  baggage  about  10  o’clock  ; and  leaving  a portion  of  it 
here,  we  continued  on  for  a mile  and  a half,  and  encamped  at  the  foot  of 
a long  hill  on  this  side  of  the  open  bottom. 

Bernier  and  Godey,  who  yesterday  morning  had  been  sent  to  ascend  a 
higher  peak,  got  in,  hungry  and  fatigued.  They  confirmed  what  we  had 
already  seen.  Two  other  sleighs  arrived  in  the  afternoon ; and  the  men 
being  fatigued,  I gave  them  all  tea  and  sugar.  Snow  clouds  began  to  rise 
in  the  SSW. ; and,  apprehensive  of  a storm,  which  would  destroy  our 
road,  I sent  the  people  back  to  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  with  directions  to  send 
for  the  animals  in  the  morning.  With  me  remained  Mr.  Preuss,  Mr.  Tal- 
bot, and  Carson,  with  Jacob. 

Elevation  of  the  camp,  by  the  boiling  point,  is  7,920  feet. 

February  9. — During  the  night  the  weather  changed,  the  wind  rising  to 
a gale,  and  commencing  to  snow  before  daylight ; before  morning  the  trail 
was  covered.  We  remained  quiet  in  camp  all  day,  in  the  course  of  which 
the  weather  improved.  Four  sleighs  arrived  toward  evening,  with  the 
bedding  of  the  men.  We  suffer  much  from  the  want  of  salt ; and  all  the 
men  are  becoming  weak  from  insufficient  food. 

February  10. — Taplin  was  sent  back  with  a few  men  to  assist  Mr.  Fitz- 
patrick ; and  continuing  on  with  three  sleighs  carrying  a part  of  the  bag- 
gage, we  had  the  satisfaction  to  encamp  within  two  and  a half  mile3  of  the 
head  of  the  hollow,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  last  mountain  ridge.  Here  two 
large  trees  had  been  set  on  fire,  and  in  the  holes,  where  the  snow  had  been 
melted  away,  we  found  a comfortable  camp. 

The  wind  kept  the  air  filled  with  snow  during  the  day  ; the  sky  was  very 
dark  in  the  southwest,  though  elsewhere  very  clear.  The  forest  here  has 
a noble  appearance  : the  tall  cedar  is  abundant ; its  greatest  height  being 
130  feet,  and  circumference  20,  three  or  four  feet  above  the  ground  ; and 
here  I see  for  the  first  time  the  white  pine,  of  which  there  are  some  mag- 
nificent trees.  Hemlock  spruce  is  among  the  timber,  occasionally  as  large 
as  8 feet  in  diameter  four  feet  above  the  ground  ; but,  in  ascending,  it 
tapers  rapidly  to  less  than  one  foot  at  the  height  of  80  feet.  I have  not 
seen  any  higher  than  130  feet,  and  the  slight  upper  part  is  frequently 
broken  oft”  by  the  wind.  The  white  spruce  is  frequent ; and  the  red  pine, 
( pinus  Colorado  of  the  Mexicans,)  which  constitutes  the  beautiful  forest 
along  the  flanks  of  the  Sierra  Nevada  to  the  northward,  is  here  the  prin- 
cipal tree,  not  attaining  a greater  height  than  140  feet,  though  with  some- 
times a diameter  of  10.  Most  of  these  trees  appeared  to  differ  slightly 
from  those  of  the  same  kind  on  the  other  side  of  the  continent. 

The  elevation  of  the  camp,  by  the  boiling  point,  is  8,050  feet.  We  are 
now  1,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  mountains  ; 
and  still  we  are  not  done  ascending.  The  top  of  a flat  ridge  near  was  bare 
of  snow,  and  very  well  sprinkled  with  bunch  grass,  sufficient  to  pasture  the 
animals  two  or  three  days;  and  this  was  to  be  their  main  point  of  support. 
This  ridge  is  composed  of  a compact  trap,  or  basalt,  of  a columnar  struc- 
ture ; over  the  surface  are  scattered  large  boulders  of  porous  trap.  The  hills 
are  in  many  places  entirely  covered  with  small  fragments  of  volcanic  rock. 

Putting  on  our  snow  shoes,  we  spent  the  afternoon  in  exploring  a road 
ahead.  The  glare  of  the  snow,  combined  with  great  fatigue,  had  rendered 
many  of  the  people  nearly  blind  ; but  we  were  fortunate  in  having  some 
black  silk  handkerchiefs,  which,  worn  as  veils,  very  much  relieved  the  eye. 


234 


[ 174  ] 

February  11. — High  wind  continued,  and  our  trail  this  morning  was 
nearly  invisible — here  and  there  indicated  by  a little  ridge  of  snow.  Our 
situation  became  tiresome  and  dreary,  requiring  a strong  exercise  of  pa- 
tience and  resolution. 

In  the  evening  I received  a message  from  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  acquainting 
me  with  the  utter  failure  of  his  attempt  to  get  our  mules  and  horses  over 
the  snow — the  half-hidden  trail  had  proved  entirely  too  slight  to  support 
them,  and  they  had  broken  through,  and  were  plunging  about  or  lying  half 
buried  in  snow.  He  was  occupied  in  endeavoring  to  get  them  back  to 
his  camp ; and  in  the  mean  time  sent  to  me  for  further  instructions.  I 
wrote  to  him  to  send  the  animals  immediately  back  to  their  old  pastures ; 
and,  after  having  made  mauls  and  shovels,  turn  in  all  the  strength  of  his 
party  to  open  and  beat  a road  through  the  snow,  strengthening  it  with 
branches  and  boughs  of  the  pines. 

February  12. — We  made  mauls,  and  worked  hard  at  our  end  of  the 
road  all  the  day.  The  wind  was  high,  but  the  sun  bright,  and  the  snow 
thawing.  We  worked  down  the  face  of  the  hill,  to  meet  the  people  at 
the  other  end.  Towards  sundown  it  began  to  grow  cold,  and  we  shoul- 
dered our  mauls,  and  trudged  back  to  camp. 

February  13. — We  continued  to  labor  on  the  road;  and  in  the  course 
of  the  day  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  the  people  working  down  the  face  of 
the  opposite  hill,  about  three  miles  distant.  During  the  morning  we  had 
the  pleasure  of  a visit  from  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  with  the  information  that  all 
was  going  on  well.  A party  of  Indians  had  passed  on  show  shoes,  who 
said  they  were  going  to  the  western  side  of  the  mountain  after  fish.  This 
was  an  indication  that  the  salmon  were  coming  up  the  streams ; and  we 
could  hardly  restrain  our  impatience  as  we  thought  of  them,  and  worked 
with  increased  vigor. 

The  meat  train  did  not  arrive  this  evening,  and  I gave  Godey  leave  to 
kill  our  little  dog,  (Tiamath,)  which  he  prepared  in  Indian  fashion  ; scorch- 
ing off  the  hair,  and  washing  the  skin  with  soap  and  snow,  and  then  cut- 
ting it  up  into  pieces,  which  were  laid  on  the  snow.  Shortly  afterwards, 
the  sleigh  arrived  with  a supply  of  horse  meat ; and  we  had  to-night  an 
extraordinary  dinner — pea  soup,  mule,  and  dog. 

February  14. — Annexed  is  a viewr  of  the  dividing  ridge  of  the  Sierra, 
taken  from  this  encampment.  With  Mr.  Preuss,  I ascended  to-day  the 
highest  peak  to  the  right ; from  which  we  had  a beautiful  view  of  a mount 
tain  lake  at  our  feet,- about  fifteen  miles  in  length,  and  so  entirely  surround- 
ed by  mountains  that  we  could  not  discover  an  outlet.  We  had  taken  with 
us  a glass  ; but,  though  we  enjoyed  an  extended  view,  the  valley  was  half 
hidden  in  mist,  as  when  we  had  seen  it  before.  Snow  could  be  distin- 
guished on  the  higher  parts  of  the  coast  mountains  ; eastward,  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  extend,  it  ranged  over  a terrible  mass  of  broken  snowy  moun- 
tains, fading  off  blue  in  the  distance.  The  rock  composing  the  summit  con- 
sists of  a very  coarse  dark  volcanic  conglomerate  ; the  lower  parts  appeared 
to  be  of  a slaty  structure.  The  highest  trees  were  a few  scattering  cedars 
and  aspens.  From  the  immediate  foot  of  the  peak,  we  were  tw-o  hours  in 
reaching  the  summit,  and  one  hour  and  a quarter  in  descending.  The  day 
had  been  very  bright,  still,  and  clear,  and  spring  seems  to  be  advancing 
rapidly.  While  the  sun  is  in  the  sky,  the  snow  melts  rapidly,  and  gushing 
springs  cover  the  face  of  the  mountain  in  all  the  exposed  places  ; but  their 
surface  freezes  instantly  with  the  disappearance  of  the  sun. 


J 


235  [ 174  ] 

I obtained  to-night  some  observations  ; and  the  result  from  these,  and  oth- 
ers made  during  our  stay,  gives  for  the  latitude  38°  41'  57",  longitude  1£0° 
25'  57",  and  rate  of  the  chronometer  25". 82. 

February  16. — We  had  succeeded  in  getting  our  animals  safely  to  the 
first  grassy  hill ; and  this  morning  I started  with  Jacob  on  a reconnoitring 
expedition  beyond  the  mountain.  We  travelled  along  the  crests  of  narrow 
ridges,  extending  down  from  the  mountain  in  the  direction  of  the  valley, 
from  which  the  snow  was  fast  melting  away.  On  the  open  spots  was  tol- 
erably good  grass ; and  I judged  we  should  succeed  in  getting  the  camp 
down  by  way  of  these.  Towards  sundown  we  discovered  some  icy  spots 
in' a deep  hollow  ; and,  descendingthe mountain, we  encamped  on  the  head 
water  of  a little  creek,  where  at  last  the  water  found  its  way  to  the  Pacific» 

The  night  was  clear  and  very  long.  We  heard  the  cries  of  some  wild 
| animals,  which  had  been  attracted  by  our  fire,  and  a flock  of  geese  passed 
I over  during  the  night.  Even  these  strange  spunds  had  something  pleasant 
to  our  senses  in  this  region  of  silence  and  desolation. 

| We  started  again  early  in  the  morning.  The  creek  acquired  a regular 
breadth  of  about  20  feet,  and  we  soon  began  to  hear  the  rushing  of  the  water 
below  the  ice  surface,  over  which  we  travelled  to  avoid  the  snow ; a few 
miles  below  we  broke  through,  where  the  water  was  several  f^t  deep,  and 
| halted  to  make  a fire  and  dry  our  clothes.  We  continued  a few  miles 
| farther,  walking  being  very  laborious  without  snow  shoes. 

I was  now  perfectly  satisfied  that  we  had  struck  the  stream  on  which 
| Mr.  Sutter  lived  ; and,  turning  about,  made  a hard  push,  and  reached  the 
i camp  at  dark.  Here  we  had  the  pleasure  to  find  all  the  remaining  animals, 
57  in  number,  safely  arrived  at  the  grassy  hill  near  the  camp  ; and  here, 
also,  we  were  agreeably  surprised  with  the  sight  of  an  abundance  of  salt. 
Some  of  the  horse  guard  had  gone  to  a neighboring  hut  for  pine  nuts,  and 
discovered  unexpectedly  a large  cake  of  very  white  fine-grained  salt,  which 
| the  Indians  told  them  they  had  brought  from  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain ; they  used  it  to  eat  with  their  pine  nuts,  and  readily  sold  it  for  goods. 

On  the  19th,  the  people  were  occupied  in  making  a road  and  bringing  up 
the  baggage  ; and,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  February  20, 1844,  we 
encamped  with  the  animals  and  all  the  materiel  of  the  camp,  on  the  summit 
of  the  Pass  in  the  dividing  ridge,  1,000  miles  by  our  travelled  road  from 
the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

The  people,  who  had  not  yet  been  to  this  point,  climbed  the  neighboring 
peak  to  enjoy  a look  at  the  valley. 

The  temperature  of  boiling  water  gave  for  the  elevation  of  the  encamp- 
ment 9,338  feet  above  the  sea. 

This  was  2,000  feet  higher  than  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  mountains, 
and  several  peaks  in  view  rose  several  thousand  feet  still  higher.  Thus,  at 
the  extremity  of  the  continent,  and  near  the  coast,  the  phenomenon  was 
seen  of  a range  of  mountains  still  higher  than  the  great  Rocky  mountains 
themselves.  This  extraordinary  fact  accounts  for  the  Great  Basin,  and 
shows  that  there  must  be  a system  of  small  lakes  and  rivers  here  scattered 
over  a flat  country,  and  which  the  extended  and  lofty  range  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada  prevents  from  escaping  to  the  Pacific  ocean.  Latitude  38°  44' ; 
longitude  120°  28'. 

Thus  this  Pass  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  which  so  well  deserves  its  name 
of  Snowy  mountain,  is  eleven  degrees  west  and  about  four  degrees  south 

of  flap  Smith  Pakq. 


February  21. — We  now  considered  ourselves  victorious  over  the  moun- 
tain ; having  only  the  descent  before  us,  and  the  valley  under  our  eyes,  we 
felt  strong  hope  that  we  should  force  our  way  dow7n.  But  this  was  a case 
in  which  the  descent  was  not  facile.  Still  deep  fields  of  snow  lay  between, 
and  there  was  a large  intervening  space  of  rough-looking  mountains,  through 
which  we  had  yet  to  wind  our  way.  Carson  roused  me  this  morning  with 
an  early  fire,  and  we  were  all  up  long  before  day,  in  order  to  pass  the  snow 
fields  before  the  sun  should  render  the  crust  soft.  We  enjoyed  this  morn- 
ing a scene,  at  sunrise,  which  even  here  was  unusually  glorious  and  beauti- 
ful. Immediately  above  the  eastern  mountains  was  repeated  a cloud-lormed 
mass  of  purple  ranges,  bordered  with  bright  yellow  gold  ; the  peaks  shot 
up  into  a narrow  line  of  crimson  cloud,  above  which  the  air  was  filled  with 
a greenish  orange  ; and  over  all  was  the  singular  beauty  of  the  blue  sky. 
Passing  along  a ridge  which  commanded  the  lake  on  our  right,  of  which 
we  began  to  discover  an  outlet  through  a chasm  on  the  west,  we  passed 
over  alternating  open  ground  and  hard-crusted  snow  fields  which  support- 
ed the  animals,  and  encamped  on  the  ridge  after  a journey  of  6 miles.  The 
grass  was  better  than  we  had  yet  seen,  and  we  were  encamped  in  a clump 
of  trees  twenty  or  thirty  feet  high,  resembling  white  pine.  With  the  excep- 
tion of  these  %mall  clumps,  the  ridges  were  bare ; and,  where  the  snow7  found 
the  support  ofithe  trees,  the  wind  had  blown  it  up  into  banks  ten  or  fifteen 
feet  high.  It  required  much  care  to  hunt  out  a practicable  way,  as  the 
most  open  places  frequently  led  to  impassable  banks. 

We  had  hard  and  doubtful  labor  yet  before  us,  as  the  snow  appeared  to 
be  heavier  where  the  timber  began  further  down,  with  few  open  spots. 
Ascending  a height,  we  traced  out  the  best  line  we  could  discover  for  the 
next  day’s  march,  and  had  at  least  the  consolation  to  see  that  the  mountain 
descended  rapidly.  The  day  had  been  one  of  April ; gusty,  with  a few  oc- 
casional flakes  of  snow ; which,  in  the  afternoon,  enveloped  the  upper 
mountain  in  clouds.  We  watched  them  anxiously,  as  now  we  dreaded  a 
snow  storm.  Shortly  afterwards  we  heard  the  roll  of  thunder,  and,  looking 
towards  the  valley,  found  it  all  enveloped  in  a thunder  storm.  For  us,  as 
connected  with  the  idea  of  summer,  it  had  a singular  charm;  and  wre  watch- 
ed its  progress  w ith  excited  feelings  until  nearly  sunset, when  the  sky  clear- 
ed off  brightly,  and  we  saw  a shining  line  of  water  directing  its  course  to- 
wards another,  a broader  and  larger  sheet.  We  knew7  that  these  could  be 
no  other  than  the  Sacramento  and  the  bay  of  San  Francisco  ; but,  after  our 
long  wandering  in  rugged  mountains,  wThere  so  frequently  w7e  had  met  with 
disappointments,  and  where  the  crossing  of  every  ridge  displayed  some  un- 
known lake  or  river,  we  were  yet  almost  afraid  to  believe  that  w7e  were  at 
last  to  escape  into  the  genial  country  of  which  we  had  heard  so  many 
glowdng  descriptions,  and  dreaded  again  to  find  some  vast  interior  lake, 
whose  bitter  waters  would  bring  us  disappointment.  On  the  southern  shore 
of  what  appeared  to  be  the  bay  could  be  traced  the  gleaming  line  where 
entered  another  large  stream  ; and  again  the  Buenaventura  rose  up  in  our 
minds. 

Carson  had  entered  the  valley  along  the  southern  side  of  the  bay,  and  re- 
membered perfectly  to  have  crossed  the  mouth  of  a very  large  stream, 
which  they  had  been  obliged  to  raft  ; but  the  country  then  was  so  entirely 
covered  with  water  from  snow  and  rain,  that  he  had  been  able  to  form  no 
correct  impression  of  watercourses. 

We  had  the  satisfaction  to  know  that  at  least  there  were  people  below. 


237 


[ 174  ] 

Fires  were  lit  up  in  the  valley  just  at  night,  appearing  to  be  in  answer  to 
ours ; and  these  signs  of  life  renewed , in  some  measure,  the  gayety  of  jhe 
camp.  They  appeared  so  near,  that  we  judged  them  to  be  among  the  tim- 
ber of  some  of  the  neighboring  ridges  ; but,  having  them  constantly  in  view 
day  after  day,  and  night  after  night,  we  afterwards  found  them  to  be  fires 
that  had  been  kindled  by  the  Indians  among  the  tulares , on  the  shore  of 
the  bay,  80  miles  distant. 

x\mong  the  very  few  plants  that  appeared  here,  was  the  common  blue 
flax.  To-night,  a mule  was  killed  for  food. 

February  22. — Our  breakfast  was  over  long  before  day.  We  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  coolness  of  the  early  morning  to  get  over  the  snow,  which 
to-day  occurred  in  very  deep  banks  among  the  timber ; but  we  searched 
out  the  coldest  places,  and  the  animals  passed  successfully  with  their  loads 
the  hard  crust.  Now  and  then,  the  delay  of  making  a road  occasioned 
much  labor  and  loss  of  time.  In  the  aftej  part  of  the  day,  we  saw  before 
us  a handsome  grassy  ridge  point;  and,  making  a desperate  push  over  a 
snow  field  10  to  15  feet  deep,  we  happily  succeeded  in  getting  the  camp 
across ; and  encamped  on  the  ridge,  after  a march  of  three  miles.  We  had 
again  the  prospect  of  a thunder  storm  below  ; and  to-night  we  killed  another 
mule — now  our  only  resource  from  starvation.  « 

We  satisfied  ourselves  during  the  day  that  the  lake  had  an  outlet  be- 
tween two  ranges  on  the  right ; and  with  this,  the  creek  on  which  I had 
encamped  probably  effected  a junction  below.  Between  these,  we  were 
descending. 

We  continued  to  enjoy  the  same  delightful  weather ; the  sky  of  the  same 
beautiful  blue,  and  such  a sunset  and  sunrise  as  on  our  Atlantic  coast  we 
could  scarcely  imagine.  And  here  among  the  mountains,  9,000  feet  above 
the  sea,  we  have  the  deep-blue  sky  and  sunny  climate  of  Smyrna  and 
Palermo,  which  a little  map  before  me  shows  are  in  the  same  latitude. 

The  elevation  above  the  sea,  by  the  boiling  point,  is  8,565  feet. 

February  23. — This  was  our  most  difficult  day  : we  were  forced  off  the 
ridges  by  the  quantity  of  snow  among  the  timber,  and  obliged  to  take  to 
the  mountain  sides,  where,  occasionally,  rocks  and  a southern  exposure  af- 
forded us  a chance  to  scramble  along.  But  these  were  steep,  and  slippery 
with  snow  and  ice ; and  the  tough  evergreens  of  the  mountain  impeded 
our  way,  tore  our  skins,  and  exhausted  our  patience.  Some  of  us  had  the 
misfortune  to  wear  moccasins  with  parfleche  soles,  so  slippery  that  we  could 
not  keep  our  feet,  and  generally  crawled  across  the  snow  beds.  Axes  and 
mauls  were  necessary  to-day,  to  make  a road  through  the  snow.  Going 
ahead  with  Carson  to  reconnoitre  the  road,  we  reached  in  the  afternoon  the 
river  which  made  the  outlet  of  the  lake.  Carson  sprang  over,  clear  across 
a place  where  the  stream  was  compressed  among  rocks,  but  the  parfleche 
sole  of  my  moccasin  glanced  from  the  icy  rock,  and  precipitated  me  into  the 
river.  It  was  some  few  seconds  before  I could  recover  myself  in  the  cur- 
rent, and  Carson,  thinking  me  hurt,  jumped  in  after  me,  and  we  both  had 
an  icy  bath.  We  tried  to  search  a while  for  my  gun,  which  had  been  lost 
in  the  fall,  but  the  cold  drove  us  out ; and  making  a large  fire  on  the  bank, 
after  we  had  partially  dried  ourselves  we  went  back  to  meet  the  camp. 
We  afterwards  found  that  the  gun  had  been  slung  under  the  ice  which 
lined  the  banks  of  the  creek. 

Using  our  old  plan  of  breaking  the  road  with  alternate  horses,  we  reached 
the  creek  in  the  evening,  and  encamped  on  a dry  open  place  in  the  ravine* 


238 


C 174  ] 

Another  branch,  which  we  had  followed,  here  comes  in  on  the  left ; and 
from  this  point  the  mountain  wall,  on  which  we  had  travelled  to-day,  faces 
to  the  south  along  the  light  bank  of  the  river,  where  the  sun  appears  to 
have  melted  the  snow;  but  the  opposite  ridge  is  entirely  covered.  Here, 
among  the  pines,  (She  hill  side  produces  but  little  grass — barely  sufficient 
to  keep  life  in  the  animals.  We  had  the  pleasure  to  be  rained  upon  this 
afternoon ; and  grass  was  now  our  greatest  solicitude.  Many  of  the  men 
looked  badly ; and  some  this  evening  were  giving  out. 

February  24. — We  rose  at  three  in  the  morning,  for  an  astronomical  ob- 
servation, and  obtained  for  the  place  a latitude  of  38°  46'  58" ; longitude 
120°  34'  20".  The  sky  was  clear  and  pure,  with  a sharp  wind  from  the 
northeast,  and  the  thermometer  2°  below  the  freezing  point. 

We  continued  down  the  south  face  of  the  mountain  ; our  road  leading 
over  dry  ground,  we  were  able  to  avoid  the  snow  almost  entirely.  In  the 
course  of  the  morning,  we  strucka  footpath,  which  we  were  generally  able 
to  keep  ; and  the  ground  was  soft  to  our  animals’  feet,  being  sandy  or  cover- 
ed with  mould.  Green  grass  began  to  make  its  appearance,  and  occasion- 
ally we  passed  a hill  scatteringly  covered  with  it.  The  character  of  the 
forest  continued  the  same;  and,  among  the  trees,  the  pine  with  sharp 
leaves  and  *rery  large  cones  was  abundant,  some  of  them  being  noble  trees. 
We  measured  one  that  had  10  feet  diameter,  though  the  height  was  not 
more  than  130  feet.  All  along,  the  river  was  a roaring  torrent,  its  fall 
very  great;  and,  descending  with  a rapidity  to  which  we  had  long  been 
strangers,  to  our  great  pleasure  oak  trees  appeared  on  the  ridge,  and  soon 
, became  very  frequent ; on  these  I remarked  unusually  great  quantities  of 
mistletoe.  Rushes  began  to  make  their  appearance  ; and  at  a small  creek 
where  they  were  abundant,  one  of  the  messes  was  left  with  the  weakest 
horses,  while  we  continued  on. 

The  opposite  mountain  side  was  very  steep  and  continuous — unbroken 
by  ravines,  and  covered  writh  pines  and  snow ; while  on  the  side  we  wTere 
travelling,  innumerable  rivulets  poured  down  from  the  ridge.  Continuing 
on,  we  halted  a moment  at  one  of  these  rivulets,  to  admire  some  beautiful 
evergreen  tiees,  resembling  live  oak,  which  shaded  the  little  stream.  They 
were  forty  to  fifty  feet  high,  and  two  in  diameter,  with  a uniform  tufted  top ; 
and  the  summer  green  of  their  beautiful  foliage,  with  the  singing  birds,  and 
the  sweet  summer  wind  which  was  whirling  about  the  dry  oak  leaves, 
nearly  intoxicated  us  with  delight ; and  we  hurried  on,  filled  with  excite- 
ment, to  escape  entirely  from  the  horrid  region  of  inhospitable  snow,  to  the 
perpetual  spring  of  the  Sacramento. 

When  we  had  travelled  about  ten  miles,  the  valley  opened  a little  to  an 
oak  and  pine  bottom,  through  which  ran  rivulets  closely  bordered  with 
rushes,  on  which  our  half-starved  horses  fell  with  avidity;  and  here  we 
made  our  encampment.  Here  the  roaring  torrent  has  already  become  a 
river,  and  we  had  descended  to  an  elevation  of  3,864  feet. 

Along  our  road  to-day  the  rock  was  a white  granite,  wffiich  appears  to 
constitute  the  upper  part  of  the  mountains  on  both  the  eastern  and  western 
slopes ; while  between,  the  central  is  a volcanic  rock. 

Another  horse  was  killed  to-night,  for  food. 

February  2 o. — Believing  that  the  difficulties  of  the  road  w7ere  passed, 
and  leaving  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  to  follow  slowly,  as  the  condition  of  the  ani- 
mals required,  I started  ahead  this  morning  writh  a party  of  eight,  consist- 
ing (with  myself)  of  Mr.  Pre uss  and  Mr.  Talbot,  Carson,  Derosier,  Towns, 


239 


[ 1?4  ] 

Froue,  and  Jacob.  We  took  with  us  some  of  the  best  animals,  and  my  in- 
tention was  to  proceed  as  rapidly  as  possible  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Sutter, 
and  return  to  meet  the  party  with  a supply  of  provisions  and  fresh  animals. 

Continuing  down  the  river,  which  pursued  a very  direct  westerly  course 
through  a narrow  valley,  with  only  a very  slight  and  narrow  bottom  land, 
we  made  tw  elve  miles,  and  encamped  at  some  old  Indian  huts,  apparently 
a fishing  place  on  the  river.  The  bottom  was  covered  with  trees  of  de- 
ciduous foliaga,  and  overgrown  with  vines  and  rushes.  On  a bench  of  the 
hill  near  by,  w7as  a field  of  fresh  green  grass,  six  inches  long  in  some  of  the 
tufts  which  I had  the  curiosity  to  measure.  The  animals  were  driven 
here  ; and  I spent  part  of  the  afternoon  sitting  on  a large  rock  among 
them,  enjoying  the  pauseless  rapidity  with  which  they  luxuriated  in  the 
unaccustomed  food. 

The  forest  was  imposing  to-day  in  the  magnificence  of  the  trees  : some 
of  the  pines,  bearing  large  cones,  wer#  10  feet  in  diameter  ; cedars  also 
abounded,  and  we  measured  one  2S§  feet  in  circumference  four  feet  from 
the  ground.  This  noble  tree  seemed  here  to  be  in  its  proper  soil  and  cli- 
mate. We  found  it  on  both  sides  of  the  Sierra,  but  most  abundant  on  the 
west. 

February  26. — We  continued  to  follow  the  stream,  the  mountains  on 
either  hand  increasing  in  height  as  we  descended,  and  shutting  up  the 
river  narrowly  in  precipices,  along  which  we  had  great  difficulty  to  get 
our  horses. 

It  rained  heavily  during  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  forced  off  the  river 
to  the  heights  above  ; whence  we  descended,  at  night-fall,  the  point  of  a 
spur  between  the  river  and  a fork  of  nearly  equal  size,  coming  in  from  the 
right.  Here  we  saw,  on  the  lower  hills,  the  first  flowers  in  bloom,  whiph 
occurred  suddenly,  and  in  considerable  quantity  ; one  of  them  a species  of 
gilia. 

The  current  in  both  streams  (rather  torrents  than  rivers)  was  broken  by 
large  boulders.  It  was  late,  and  the  animals  fatigued  ; and  not  succeeding 
to  find  a ford  immediately,  we  encamped,  although  the  hill  side  afforded 
but  a few  stray  bunches  of  grass,  and  the  horses,  standing  about  in  the 
rain,  looked  very  miserable. 

February  27. — We  succeeded  in  fording  the  stream,  and  made  a trail  by 
which  we  crossed  the  point  of  the  opposite  hill,  which,  on  the  southern 
exposure,  was  prettily  covered  with  green  grass,  and  we  halted  a mile  from 
our  last  encampment.  The  river  was  only  about  sixty  feet  wfide,  but  rapid, 
and  occasionally  deep,  foaming  among  boulders,  and  the  water  beautifully 
clear.  We  encamped  on  the  hill  slope,  as  there  was  no  bottom  level,  and 
the  opposite  ridge  is  continuous,  affording  no  streams. 

We  had  with  us  a large  kettle ; and  a mule  being  killed  here,  his  head 
%vas  boiled  in  it  for  several  hours,  and  made  a passable  soup  for  famished 
people. 

Below,  precipices  on  the  river  forced  us  to  the  heights,  which  we  as- 
cended by  a steep  spur  2,000  feet  high.  My  favorite  horse,  Proveau,  had 
become  very  weak,  and  wasscarcely  able  to  bring  himself  to  the  top.  Trav- 
elling here  was  good,  except  in  crossing  the  ravines,  which  were  narrow, 
steep,  and  frequent.  We  caught  a glimpse  of  a deer,  the  first  animal  we 
had  seen  ; but  did  not  succeed  in  approaching  him.  Proveau  could  not 
keep  up,  and  I left  Jacob  to  bring  him  on,  being  obliged  to  press  forward 
w ith  the  party,  as  there  was  no  grass  in  the  forest.  We  grew  very  anxious 
as  the  day  advanced  and  no  grass  appeared,  for  the  lives  of  our  animals 


240 


[ 174  ] 

depended  on  finding  it  to-night.  They  were  in  just  such  a condition  that 
grass  and  repose  for  the  night  enabled  them  to  get  on  the  next  day.  Every 
hour  we  had  been  expecting  to  see  open  out  before  us  the  valley,  which,  from 
the  mountain  above,  seemed  almost  at  our  feet.  A new  and  singular  shrub, 
which  had  made  its  appearance  since  crossing  the  mountain,  was  very  fre- 
quent to-day.  It  branched  out  near  the  ground,  forming  a clump  eight  to 
ten  feet  high,  with  pale-green  leaves  of  an  oval  form  , and  the  body  and 
branches  had  a naked  appearance,  as  if  stripped  of  the  bark, ‘which  is  very 
smooth  and  thin,  of  a chocolate  color,  contrasting  well  with  the  pale  green 
of  the  leaves.  The  day  was  nearly  gone  ; we  had  made  a hard  day’s  march, 
and  found  no  grass.  Towns  became  light-headed,  wandering  off  into  the 
woods  without  knowing  where  he  was  going,  and  Jacob  brought  him  back. 

Near  night-fall  we  descended  into  the  steep  ravine  of  a handsome  creek 
thirty  feet  wide,  and  I was  engaged  in  getting  the  horses  up  the  opposite 
hill,  when  I heard  a shout  from  Ctrson,  who  had  gone  ahead  a few  hun- 
dred yards — “Life  yet,”  said  he,  as  he  came  up,  u life  yet ; I have  found  a 
hill  side  sprinkled  with  grass  enough  fcfr  the  night.”  We  drove  along  our 
horses,  and  encamped  at  the  place  about  dark,  and  there  was  just  room 
enough  to  make  a place  for  shelter  on  the  edge  of  the  stream.  Three 
horses  were  lost  to-day — Proveau  ; a fine  young  horse  from  the  Columbia, 
belonging  to  Charles  Towns;  and  another  Indian  horse  which  carried  our 
cooking  utensils  ; the  two  former  gave  out,  and  the  latter  strayed  off  into 
the  woods  as  we  reached  the  camp. 

February  29. — We  lay  shut  up  in  the  narrow  ravine,  and  gave  the  ani- 
mals a necessary  day  ; and  men  were  sent  back  after  the  others.  Derosier 
volunteered  to  bring  up  Proveau,  to  whom  he  knew  I was  greatly  attach- 
ed, as  he  had  been  my  favorite  horse  on  both  expeditions.  Carson  and  I 
climbed  one  of  the  nearest  mountains  ; the  forest  land  still  extended  ahead, 
and  the  valley  appeared  as  far  as  ever.  The  pack  horse  was  found  near 
the  camp,  but  Derosier  did  not  get  in. 

March  1. — Derosier  did  not  get  in  during  the  night,  and  leaving  him  to 
follow,  as  no  grass  remained  here,  we  continued  on  over  the  uplands,  cross- 
ing many  small  streams,  and  camped  again  on  the  river,  having  made  6 
miles.  Here  we  found  the  hill  side  covered  (although  lightly)  with  fresh 
green  grass  ; and  from  this  time  forward  we  found  it  always  improving 
and  abundant. 

We  made  a pleasant  camp  on  the  river  hill,  where  were  some  beautiful 
specimens  of  the  chocolate-colored  shrub,  which  were  a foot  in  diameter 
near  the  ground,  and  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  high.  The  opposite  ridge  runs 
continuously  along,  unbroken  by  streams.  We  are  rapidly  descending  into 
the  spring,  and  we  are  leaving  our^  snowy  region  far  behind  ; every  thing  is 
getting  green  ; butterflies  are  swarming ; numerous  bugs  are  creeping  out, 
wakened  from  their  winter’s  sleep  ; and  the  forest  flowers. are  coming  into 
bloom.  Among  those  which  appeared  most  numerously  to-day  was  dode - 
catheon  dentatum. 

We  began  to  be  uneasy  at  Derosier’s  absence,  fearing  he  might  have 
been  bewildered  in  the  woods.  Charles  Towns,  who  had  not  yet  recovered 
his  mind,  wjent  to  swim  in  the  river,  as  if  it  were  summer,  and  the  stream 
placid,  when  it  was  a cold  mountain  torrent  foaming  among  rocks.  We 
were  happy  to  see  Derosier  appear  in  the  evening.  He  came  in,  and,  sitting 
down  by  the  fire,  began  to  tell  us  where  he  had  been.  He  imagined  he 
had  been  gone  several  days,  and  thought  we  were  still  at  the  camp  where 


241 


C 174  ] 

he  had  left  us  ; and  we  were  pained  to  see  that  his  mind  was  deranged.  It 
appeared  that  he  had  been  lost  in  the  mountain,  and  hunger  and  fatigue, 
joined  to  weakness  of  body,  and  fear  of  perishing  in  the  mountains,  had 
crazed  him.  The  times  were  severe  when  stout  men  lost  their  minds  from 
extremity  of  suffering — when  horses  died — and  when  mules  and  horses, 
ready  to  die  of  starvation,  were  killed  for  food.  Yet  there  wars  no  mur- 
muring or  hesitation. 

A short  distance  below  our  encampment,  the  river  mountains  terminated 
in  precipices,  and,  after  a fatiguing  march  of  only  a few  miles,  we  encamped 
on  a bench  where  there  were  springs  and  an  abundance  of  the  freshest 
grass.  In  the  mean  time,  Mr.  Preuss  continued  on  down  the  river,  and, 
unaware  that  we  had  encamped  so  early  in  the  day,  was  lost.  When  night 
arrived,  and  he  did  not  come  in,  we  began  to  understand  what  had  hap- 
pened to  him  ; but  it  was  too  late  to  make  any  search. 

March  3. — We  followed  Mr.  Preuss’s  trail  for  a considerable  distance 
along  the  river,  until  we  reached  a place  where  he  had  descended  to  the 
stream  below  and  encamped.  Here  we  shouted  and  fired  guns,  but  received 
no  answer  ; and  we  concluded  that  he  had  pushed  on  down  the  stream.  I 
determined  to  keep  out  from  the  river,  along  which  it  was  nearly  impracti- 
cable to  travel  with  animals,  until  it  should  form  a valley.  At  every  step 
the  country  improved  in  beauty  ; the  pines  were  rapidly  disappearing,  and 
oaks  became  the  principal  trees  of  the  forest.  Among  these,  the  prevailing 
tree  was  the  evergreen  oak,  (which,  by  way  of  distinction,  we  shall  call  the 
live  oak  ;)  and  with  these,  occurred  frequently  anew  species  of  oak  bearing 
a long  slender  acorn,  from  an  inch  to  an  inch  and  a half  in  length,  which 
we  now  began  to  see  formed  the  principal  vegetable  food  of  the  inhabitants 
of  this  region.  In  a short  distance  we  crossed  a little  rivulet,  where  were 
two  old  huts,  and  near  by  were  heaps  of  acorn  hulls.  The  ground  round 
about  was  very  rich,  covered  with  an  exuberant  sward  of  grass ; and  we 
sat  down  for  a while  in  the  shade  of  the  oaks,  to  let  the  animals  feed.  We 
repeated  our  shouts  for  Mr.  Preuss ; and  this  time  we  were  gratified  with 
an  answer.  The  voice  grew  rapidly  nearer,  ascending  from  the  river  ; but 
when  we  expected  to  see  him  emerge,  it  ceased  entirety . W e had  called  up 
some  straggling  Indian — the  first  we  had  met,  although  for  two  days  back 
V ^e  ijad  seen  tracks — who,  mistaking  us  for  his  fellows,  had  been  only  un- 

\ deceived  on  getting  close  up.  It  would  have  been  pleasant  to  witness  his 

astonishment ; he  would  not  have  been  more  frightened  had  some  of  the 
mountain  spirits  they  are  so  much  afraid  of  suddenly  appeared  in  his 
path.  Ignorant  of  the  character  of  these  people,  we  had  now  an  additional 
cause  of  uneasiness  in  regard  to  Mr.  Preuss ; he  had  no  arms  with  him,  and 
we  began  to  think  his  chance  doubtful.  We  followed  on  a trail,  still  keep- 
ing out  from  the  river,  and  descended  to  a very  large  creek,  dashing  with 

great  velocity  over  a pre-eminently  rocky  bed  and  among  large  boulders. 
The  bed  had  sudden  breaks,  formed  by  deep  holes  and  ledges  of  rock  run- 
ning across.  Even  here,  it  deserves  the  name  of  Rock  creek,  which  we  gave 
to  it.  We  succeeded  in  fording  it,  and  toiled  about  three  thousand  feet  up 
the  opposite  hill.  The  mountains  now  were  getting  sensibly  lower;  but 
still  there  is  no  valley  on  the  river,  which  presents  steep  and  rocky  banks  ; 
but  here,  several  miles  from  the  river,  the  country  is  smooth  and  grassy; 
the  forest  has  no  undergrowth ; and  in  the  open  valleys  of  rivulets,  or  around 
spring  heads,  the  low  groves  of  live  oak  give  the  appearance  of  orchards 
in  an  old  cultivated  country.  Occasionally  we  met  deer,  but  had  not  the 
16 


242 


[ 1^4  ] 

necessary  time  for  hunting.  At  one  of  these  orchard  grounds,  we  encamped 
about  noon  to  make  an  effort  for  Mr.  Preuss.  One  man  took  his  way  along 
a spur  leading  into  the  river,  in  hope  to  cross  his  trail ; and  another  took 
our  own  back.  Both  were  volunteers  ; and  to  the  successful  man  was  prom- 
ised a pair  of  pistols — not  as  a reward,  but  as  a token  of  gratitude  for  a 
service  which  would  free  us  all  from  much  anxiety. 

We  had  among  our  few  animals  a horse  which  was  so  much  reduced, 
that,  with  travelling,  even  the  good  grass  could  not  save  him;  and,  having 
nothing  to  eat,  he  was  killed  (his  afternoon.  He  was  a good  animal,  and 
had  made  the  journey  round  from  Fort  Hall. 

Dodecatheon  dentatum  continued  the  characteristic  plant  in  flower;  and 
the  naked-looking  shrub  already  mentioned  continued  characteristic,  begin- 
ning to  put  forth  a small  white  blossom.  At  evening  the  men  returned,  hav- 
ing seen  or  heard  nothing  of  Mr.  Preuss;  and  I determined  to  make  a 
hard  push  down  the  river  the  next  morning,  and  get  ahead  of  him. 

March  4. — We  continued  rapidly  along  on  a broad  plainly-beaten  trail, 
the  mere  travelling  and  breathing  the  delightful  air  being  a positive  enjoy- 
ment. Our  road  led  along  a ridge  inclining  to  the  river,  and  the  air  and 
the  open  grounds  were  fragrant  w ith  flowrering  shrubs ; and  in  the  course 
of  the  morning  w7e  issued  on  an  open  spur,  by  which  we  descended  directly 
to  the  stream.  Here  the  river  issues  suddenly  from  the  mountains,  which 
hitherto  had  hemmed  it  closely  in  ; these  now  become  softer,  and  change 
sensibly  their  character;  and  at  this  point  commences  the  most  beautiful 
valley  in  which  w7e  had  ever  travelled.  We  hurried  to  the  river,  on  which 
we  noticed  a small  sand  beach,  to  which  Mr.  Preuss  would  naturally  have 
gone.  We  found  no  trace  of  him,  but,  instead,  were  recent  tracks  of  bare- 
footed Indians,  and  little  piles  of  muscle  shells,  and  old  fires  where  they 
had  roasted  the  fish.  We  travelled  on  over  the  river  grounds,  which  were 
undulating,  and  covered  with  grass  to  the  river  brink.  We  halted  to  noon 
a few7  miles  beyond,  always  under  the  shade  of  the  evergreen  oaks,  which 
formed  open  groves  on  the  bottoms. 

Continuing  our  road  in  the  afternoon,  we  ascended  to  the  uplands,  where 
the  river  passes  round  a point  of  great  beauty,  and  goes  through  very  re- 
markable dalles,  in  character  resembling  those  of  the  Columbia  river,  and 
which  you  will  find  mentioned  on  the  map  annexed.  Beyond,  we  ^gar* 
descended  to  the  bottoms,  where  we  found  an  Indian  village,  consisting  0( 
two  or  three  huts;  we  had  come  upon  them  suddenly,  and  the  peopU  |3a(j 
evidently  just  run  off.  The  huts  were  low  and  slight,  made  like  beehiv^, 
in  a picture,  five  or  six  feet  high,  and  near  each  was  a crate,  formed  of  in- 
terlaced branches  and  grass,  in  size  and  shape  like  a very  large  hogshead. 
Each  of  these  contained  from  six  to  nine  bushels.  These  were  filled  with 
the  long  acorns  already  mentioned,  and  in  the  huts  were  several  neatly 
made  baskets,  containing  quantities  of  the  acorns  roasted.  They  were  sw  eet 
and  agreeably  flavored,  and  w e supplied  ourselves  with  about  half  a bushel, 
leaving  one  of  our  shirts,  a handkerchief,  and  some  smaller  articles,  in  ex- 
change. The  river  again  entered  for  a space  among  hills,  and  we  followed 
a trail-leading  across  a bend  through  a handsome  hollow  behind.  Here, 
while  engaged  in  trying  to  circumvent  a deer,  we  discovered  some  Indians 
on  a hill  several  hundred  yards  ahead,  and  gave  them  a shout,  to  which 
they  responded  by  loud  and  rapid  talking  and  vehement  gesticulation,  but 
made  no  slop,  hurrying  up  the  mountain  as  fast  as  their  legs  could  carry 
them.  We  passed  on,  and  again  encamped  in  a grassy  grove. 


243 


[ 174  ] 

The  absence  of  Mr.  Preuss  gave  me  great  concern  ; and,  for  a large  re- 
ward, Derosier  volunteered  to  go  back  on  the  trail.  1 directed  him  to 
search  along  the  river,  travelling  upward  for  the  space  of  a day  and  a half, 
at  which  time  1 expected  he  would  meet  Mr.  Fitzpatrick,  whom  I requested 
to  aid  in  the  search  ; at  all  events,  he  was  to  go  no  farther,  but  return  to 
this  camp,  where  a cache  of  provisions  was  made  for  him. 

Continuing  the  next  day  down  the  river,  we  discovered  three  squaws  in 
a little  bottom,  and  surrounded  them  before  they  could  make  their  escape. 
They  had  large  conical  baskets,  which  they  were  engaged  in  filling  with  a 
small  leafy  plant  (erodium  cicularium)  just  now  beginning  to  bloom,  and 
covering  the  ground  like  a swerrd  of  grass.  These  did  not  make  any 
lamentations,  but  appeared  very  much  impressed  with  our  appearance, 
Bpeaking  to  us  only  in  a whisper,  and  offering  us  smaller  baskets  of  the 
plant,  which  they  signified  to  us  was  good  to  eat,  making  signs  also  that  it 
was  to  be  cooked  by  the  fire.  We  drew  out  a little  cold  horse  meat,  and 
the  squaws  made  signs  to  us  that  the  men  had  gone  out  after  deer,  and  that 
we  could  have  some  by  waiting  till  they  came  in.  We  observed  that  the 
horses  ate  with  great  avidity  the  herb  which  ihey  had  been  gathering;  and 
here  also,  for  the  first  time,  we  saw  Indians  eat  the  common  grass — one  of 
the  squaws  pulling  several  tufts,  and  eating  it  with  apparent  relish.  See- 
ing our  surpr  ise,  she  pointed  to  the  horse3  ; but  we  could  not  well  under- 
stand what  she  meant,  except,  perhaps,  that  what  was  good  for  the  one  was 
good  for  the  other. 

We  encamped  in  the  evening  on  the  shore  of  the  river,  at  a place  where 
the  associated  beauties  of  scenery  nude  so  strong  an  impression  on  us  that 
we  have  given  it  the  name  of  the  Beautiful  Camp.  The  undulating  river 
shore  was  shaded  with  the  live  oaks,  which  formed  a continuous  grove 
over  the  country,  and  the  same  grassy  swrard  extended  to  the  edge  of  the 
water;  and  we  made  our  fires  near  some  large  granite  masses  which  were 
lying  among  the  trees.  We  had  seen  several  of  the  acorn  caches  during  the 
day  ; and  here  there  were  two  which  were  very  large,  containing  each, 
probably,  ten  bushels.  Towards  evening  we  heard  a weak  shout  among 
the  hills  behind,  and  had  the  pleasure  to  see  Mr.  Preuss  descending  towards 
the  camp.  Like  ourselves,  he  had  travelled  to-day  25  miles,  but  had  seen 
nothing  of  Derosier.  Knowing,  on  the  day  he  was  lost,  that  f was  deter- 
mined to  keep  the  river  as  much  as  possible,  he  had  not  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  follow  the  trail  very  closely,  but  walked  on,  right  and  left,  cer- 
tain to  find  it  somewhere  along  the  river,  searching  places  to  obtain  good 
views  of  the  country.  Towards  sunset  he  climbed  down  towards  the  river 
to  look  for  the  camp;  but,  finding  no  trail,  concluded  that  we  were  behind, 
and  walked  back  until  night  came  on,  when,  being  very  much  fatigued,he 
collected  cjrifi  wood  and  made  a large  fire  among  the  rocks.  The  next  day 
it  became  more  serious,  and  he  encamped  again  alone,  thinking  that  we 
must  have  taken  some  other  course.  To  go  back  would  have  been  mad- 
ness in  his  weak  and  starved  condition,  and  onward  towards  the  valley 
Was  his  only  hope,  always  in  expectation  of  reaching  it  soon  His  prin- 
cipal means  of  subsistence  were  a few  routs,  which  the  hunt  *rs  call  sweet 
onions,  having  very  little  taste,  hut  a good  deal  of  nutriment,  growing  gen- 
erally in  r ocky  ground,  and  requit  ing  a good  deal  of  labor  to  g t as  he  had 
only  a pocket  knife.  Searching  for  these,  he  found  a nes*  I big  ants, 
which  he  let  run  on  his  hand,  ami  stripped  them  off  in  his  in<  uth  ; these 
had  an  agreeable  acid  taste.  One  oi  his  greatest  privations  was  the  want 


244 


[ 174  ] 

of  tobacco ; and  a pleasant  smoke  at  evening  would  have  been  a relief 
which  only  a voyageur  could  appreciate.  He  tried  the  dried  leaves  of  the 
live  oak,  knowing  that  those  of  other  oaks  were  sometimes  used  as  a sub- 
stitute ; but  these  were  too  thick,  and  would  not  do.  On  the  4th  he  made 
seven  or  eight  miles,  walking  slowly  along  the  river,  avoiding  as  much  as 
possible  to  climb  the  hills.  In  little  pools  he  caught  some  of  the  smallest 
kind  of  frogs,  which  he  swallowed,  not  so  much  in  the  gratification  of  hun- 
ger, as  in  the  hope  of  obtaining  some  strength.  Scattered  along  the  river 
were  old  fire-places,  where  the  Indians  had  roasted  muscles  and  acorns; 
but  though  he  searched  diligently,  he  did  not  there  succeed  in  finding 
either.  He  had  collected  fire  wood  for  the  night,  when  he  heard  at  some 
distance  from  the  river  the  barking  of  what  he  thought  were  two  dogs,  and 
walked  in  that  direction  as  quickly  as  he  was  able,  hoping  to  find  there 
some  Indian  hut,  but  met  only  two  waives  ; and,  in  his  disappointment,  the 
gloom  of  the  forest  was  doubled. 

Travelling  the  next  day  feebly  dowrn  the  river,  he  found  five  or  six  In- 
dians at  the  huts  of  which  we  have  spoken;  some  were  painting  them- 
selves black,  and  others  roasting  acorns.  Being  only  one  man,  they  did 
not  run  off,  but  received  him  kindly,  and  gave  him  a welcome  supply  of 
roasted  acorns.  He  gave  them  his  pocket  knife  in  return,  and  stretched 
out  his  hand  to  one  of  the  Indians,  who  did  not  appear  to  comprehend  the 
motion,  but  jumped  back,  as  if  he  thought  he  was  about  to  lay  hold  of  him* 
They  seemed  afraid  of  him,  not  certain  as  to  what  he  wras. 

Travelling  on,  he  came  to  the  place  where  we  had  found  the  squaws* 
Here  he  found  our  fire  still  burning,  and  the  tracks  of  the  horses.  The 
sight  gave  him  sudden  hope  and  courage  ; and,  following  as  fast  as  he 
could,  joined  us  at  evening. 

March  6. — We  continued  on  our  road,  through  the  same  surpassingly 
beautiful  country,  entirely  unequalled  for  the  pasturage  of  stock  by  any 
thing  we  had  ever  seen.  Our  horses  had  now  become  so  strong  that  they 
were  able  to  carry  us,  and  we  travelled  rapidly — over  four  miles  an  hour; 
four  of  us  riding  every  alternate  hour.  Every  few'  hundred  yards  we  came 
upon  a little  band  of  deer  ; but  we  were  too  eager  to  reach  the  settlement, 
which  we  momentarily  expected  to  discover,  to  halt  for  any  other  than  a pass- 
ing shot.  In  a few  hours  we  reached  a large  fork,  the  northern  branch  of 
the  river,  and  equal  in  size  to  that  which  we  had  descended.  Together 
they  formed  a beautiful  stream,  60  to  100  yards  wide  ; which  at  first,  igno- 
rant of  the  nature  of  the  country  through  which  that  river  ran,  we  took 
to  be  the  Sacramento. 

We  continued  down  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  travelling  for  a while  over 
a wooded  upland,  where  we  had  the  delight  to  discover  tracks  of  cattle.  To 
the  southwest  was  visible  a black  column  of  smoke,  which  we  had  fre- 
quently noticed  in  descending,  arising  from  the  fires  we  had  seen  from  the 
top  of  the  Sierra.  From  the  upland  we  descended  into  broad  groves  on 
the  river,  consisting  of  the  evergreen,  and  a new7  species  of  white  oak  with 
a large  tufted  top,  and  three  to  six  feet  in  diameter.  Among  these  wTas  no 
brushwood  ; and  the  grassy  surface  gave  to  it  the  appearance  of  parks  in 
an  old  settled  country.  Following  the  tracks  of  the  horses  and  cattle  in 
search  of  people,  we  discovered  a small  village  of  Indians.  Some  of  these 
had  on  shirts  of  civilized  manufacture,  but  were  otherwise  naked,  and  we 
could  understand  nothing  from  them  ; they  appeared  entirely  astonished  at 
seeing  us. 


245 


* 

[ 174  j 

We  made  an  acorn  meal  at  noon,  and  harried  on;  the  valley  being  gay 
with  flowers,  and  some  of  the  banks  being  absolutely  golden  with  the  Cali- 
fornian poppy,  ( eschscholtzia  crocea.)  Here  the  grass  was  smooth  and 
green,  and  the  groves  very  open  ; the  large  oaks  throwing  a broad  shade 
among  sunny  spots.  Shortly  afterwards  we  gave  a shout  at  the  appearance 
on  a little  bluff  of  a neatly  built  adobe  house  with  glass  windows.  We 
rode  up,  but,  to  our  disappointment,  found  only  Indians.  There  was  no  ap- 
pearance of  cultivation,  and  we  could  see  no  cattle,  and  we  supposed  the 
place  had  been  abandoned.  We  now  pressed  on  more  eagerly  than  ever; 
the  river  swept  round  in  a large  bend  to  the  right;  the  hills  lowered  down 
entirely;  and,  gradually  entering  a broad  valley,  we  came  unexpectedly 
into  a large  Indian  village,  where  the  people  looked  clean,  and  wore  cotton 
shirts  and  various  other  articles  of  dress.  They  immediately  crowded 
around  us,  and  we  had  the  inexpressible  delight  to  find  one  who  spoke  a 
little  indifferent  Spanish,  but  who  at  first  confounded  us  by  saying  there  were 
no  whites  in  the  country  ; but  just  then  a well-dressed  Indian  came  up,  and 
made  his  salutations  in  very  well  spoken  Spanish.  In  answer  to  our  in- 
quiries, he  informed  us  that  we  were  upon  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos , (the 
river  of  the  Americans,)  and  that  it  joined  the  Sacramento  river  about  10 
miles  below.  Never  did  a name  sound  more  sweetly ! We  felt  ourselves 
among  our  countrymen  ; for  the  name  of  American , in  these  distant  parts, 
is  applied  to  the  citizens  of  the  United  States.  To  our  eager  inquiries  he 
answered,  “ I am  a vaquero  (cow  herd)  in  the  service  of  Capt.  Sutter,  and 
the  people  of  this  rancheria  work  for  him.”  Our  evident  satisfaction  made 
him  communicative ; and  he  went  on  to  say  that  Capt.  Sutter  was  a very 
rich  man,  and  always  glad  to  see  his  country  people.  We  asked  for  his 
house.  He  answered,  that  it  was  just  over  the  hill  before  us  ; and  offered, 
if  we  would  wait  a moment,  to  take  his  horse  and  conduct  us  to  it.  We 
readily  accepted  his  civil  offer.  In  a short  distance  we  came  in  sight  of  the 
fort;  and,  passing  on  the  way  the  house  of  a settler  on  the  opposite  side, 
(a  Mr.  Sinclair,)  we  forded  the  river;  and  in  a few  miles  were  met  a short 
distance  from  the  fort  by  Capt.  Sutter  himself.  He  gave  us  a most  frank 
and  cordial  reception — conducted  us  immediately  to  his  residence — and 
Under  his  hospitable  roof  we  had  a night  of  rest,  enjoyment,  and  refresh- 
ment, which  none  but  ourselves  could  appreciate.  But  the  party  left  in 
the  mountains  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  were  to  be  attended  to ; and  the  next 
morning,  supplied  with  fresh  horses  and  provisions,  I hurried  off  to  meet 
them.  On  the  second  day  we  met,  a few  miles  below  the  forks  of  the  Rio 
de  los  Americanos;  and  a more  forlorn  and  pitiable  sight  than  they  present- 
ed cannot  well  be  imagined.  They  were  all  on  foot — each  man,  weak  and 
emaciated,  leading  a horse  or  mule  as  weak  and  emaciated  as  themselves. 
They  had  experienced  great  difficulty  in  descending  the  mountains,  made 
slippery  by  rains  and  melting  snows,  and  many  horses  fell  over  precipices, 
and  were  killed  ; and  with  some  were  lost  the  packs  they  carried.  Among 
these,  was  a mule  with  the  plants  which  we  had  collected  since  leaving 
Fort  Hall,  along  a line  of  2,000  miles  travel.  Out  of  67  horses  and  mules 
with  which  we  commenced  crossing  the  Sierra,  only  33  reached  the  valley 
of  the  Sacramento,  and  they  only  in  a condition  to  be  led  along.  Mr.  Fitz- 
patrick and  his  party,  travelling  more  slowly,  had  been  able  to  make  some 
little  exertion  at  hunting,  and  had  killed  a few  deer.  The  scanty  supply 
was  a great  relief  to  them  ; for  several  had  been  made  sick  by  the  strange 
and  unwholesome  food  which  the  preservation  of  life  compelled  them  to 


246 


[ 174  ] 

use.  We  stopped  and  encamped  as  soon  as  we  met;  and  a repast  of  good 
beef,  excellent  bread,  and  delicious  salmon,  which  I had  brought  along, 
were  their  first  relief  from  the  sufferings  of  the  Sierra,  and  their  first  intro- 
duction to  the  luxuries  of  the  Sacramento.  It  required  all  our  philosophy 
and  forbearance  to  prevent  plenty  from  becoming  as  hurtful  to  us  now,  as 
scarcity  had  been  before. 

The  next  day,  March  Sth,  we  encamped  at  the  junction  of  the  two  riv- 
ers, the  Sacramento  and  Americanos;  and  thus  found  the  whole  party  in 
the  beautiful  valley  of  the  Sacramento.  It  was  a convenient  place  for  the 
camp;  and,  among  other  things,  was  within  reach  of  the  wood  necessary 
to  make  the  pack  saddles,  which  we  should  need  on  our  long  journey 
home,  from  which  we  were  farther  distant  now  than  we  were  four  months 
before,  when  from  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia  we  so  cheerfully  took  up 
the  homeward  line  of  march. 

Captain  Sutter  emigrated  to  this  country  from  the  western  part  of  Mis- 
souri in  1838-’39,  and  formed  the  first  settlement  in  the  valley,  on  a large 
grant  of  land  which  he  obtained  from  the  Mexican  Government.  He  had, 
at  first,  some  trouble  with  the  Indians  ; but,  by  the  occasional  exercise  of 
well-timed  authority,  he  has  succeeded  in  converting  them  into  a peaceable 
and  industrious  people.  The  ditches  around  his  extensive  wheat  fields  ; 
the  making  of  the  sun-dried  bricks,  of  which  his  fort  is  constructed  ; the 
ploughing,  harrowing,  and  other  agricultural  operations,  are  entirely  the 
work  of  these  Indians,  for  which  they  receive  a very  moderate  compensa- 
tion— principally  in  shirts,  blankets,  and  other  articles  of  clothing.  In  the 
same  manner,  on  application  to  the  chief  of  a village,  he  readily  obtains  as 
many  boys  and  girls  as  he  has  any  use  for.  There  were  at  this  time  a 
number  of  girls  at  the  fort,  in  training  for  a future  woollen  factory ; but 
they  were  now  all  busily  engaged  in  constantly  watering  the  gardens, 
which  the  unfavorable  dryness  of  the  season  rendered  necessary.  The  oc- 
casional dryness  of  some  seasons,  I understood  to  be  the  only  complaint  of 
the  settlers  in  this  fertile  valley,  as  it  sometimes  renders  the  crops  uncer- 
tain. Mr.  Sutter  was  about  making  arrangements  to  irrigate  his  lands  by 
means  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos.  He  had  this  year  sown,  and  alto- 
gether by  Indian  labor,  three  hundred  fanegas  of  wheat. 

A few  years  since,  the  neighboring  Russian  establishment  of  Ross,  being 
about  to  withdraw  from  the  country,  sold  to  him  a large  number  of  stock, 
with  agricultural  and  other  stores,  with  a number  of  pieces  of  artillery  and 
other  munitions  of  war  ; for  these,  a regular  yearly  payment  is  made  in  grain. 

The  fort  is  a quadrangular  adobe  structure,  mounting  12  pieces  of  artil- 
lery, (two  of  them  brass,)  and  capable  of  admitting  a garrison  of  a thou- 
sand men  ; this,  at  present,  consists  of  40  Indians,  in  uniform — one  of 
whom  was  always  found  on  duty  at  the  gate.  As  might  naturally  be  ex- 
pected, the  pieces  are  not  in  very  good  order.  The  whites  in  the  em- 
ployment of  Capt.  Sutter,  American,  French  and  German,  amount,  per- 
haps, to  30  men.  The  inner  wall  is  formed  into  buildings  comprising  the 
common  quarters,  with  blacksmith  and  other  workshops;  the  dwelling 
house,  with  a large  distillery  house,  and  other  buildings,  occupying  more 
the  centre  of  the  area. 

It  is  built  upon  a pond-like  stream,  at  times  a running  creek  communicat- 
ing with  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos,  which  enters  the  Sacramento  about  two 
miles  below.  The  latter  is  here  a noble  river,  about  three  hundred  yards 
broad,  deep  and  tranquil,  with  several  fathoms  of  water  in  the  channel,  and 


* 


247 


[ »74  ] 

its  banks  continuously  timbered.  There  were  two  vessels  belonging  to 
Capt.  Sutter  at  anchor  near  the  landing — one  a large  two-masted  lighter, 
and  the  other  a schooner,  which  was  shortly  to  proceed  on  a voyage  to 
Fort  Vancouver  for  a cargo  of  goods. 

Since  his  arrival,  several  other  persons,  principally  Americans, have  es- 
tablished themselves  in  the  valley.  Mr.  Sinclair,  from  whom  I experienced 
much  kindness  during  my  stay,  is  settled  a few  miles  distant,  on  the  Rio 
de  los  Americanos.  Mr.  Coudrois,  a gentleman  from  Germany,  has  estab- 
lished himself  on  Feather  river,  and  is  associated  with  Captain  Sutter  in 
agricultural  pursuits.  Among  other  improvements,  they  are  about  to  in- 
troduce the  cultivation  of  rape  seed,  (brassica  rapus,)  which  there  is  every 
reason  to  believe  is  admirably  adapted  to  the  climate  and  soil.  The  lowest 
average  produce  of  wheat,  as  far  as  we  can  at  present  know,  is  35  fanegas 
for  one  sown  ; but,  as  an  instance  of  its  fertility,  it  may  be  mentioned  that 
Senor  Valejo  obtained,  on  a piece  of  ground  where  sheep  had  been  pas- 
tured, 800  fanegas  for  eight  sown.  The  produce  being  different  in  various 
places,  a very  correct  idea  cannot  be  formed. 

An  impetus  was  given  to  the  active  little  population  by  our  arrival,  as 
we  were  in  want  of  every  thing.  Mules,  horses,  and  cattle,  were  to  be  col- 
lected ; the  horse  mill  was  at  work  day  and  night,  to  make  sufficient  flour  ; 
the  blacksmith’s  shop  was  put  in  requisition  for  horse  shoes  and  bridle 
bitts  ; and  pack  saddles,  ropes,  and  bridles,  and  all  the  other  little  equip- 
ments'of  the  camp,  were  again  to  be  provided. 

The  delay  thus  occasioned  was  one  of  repose  and  enjoyment,  which  our 
situation  required,  and,  anxious  as  we  were  to  resume  our  homeward  jour- 
ney, was  regretted  by  no  one.  In  the  mean  time,  I had  the  pleasure  to  meet 
with  Mr.  Chiles,  who  was  residing  at  a farm  on  the  other  side  of  the  river 
Sacramento,  while  engaged  in  the  selection  of  a place  for  a settlement,  for 
w hich  he  had  received  the  necessary  grant  of  land  from  the  Mexican  Gov- 
ernment. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  we  had  parted  near  the  frontier  of  the  States, 
and  that  he  had  subsequently  descended  the  valley  of  Lewis’s  fork,  with  a 
party  of  10  or  12  men,  w ith  the  intention  of  crossing  the  intermediate  moun- 
tains to  the  waters  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco.  In  the  execution  of  this 
design,  and  aided  by  subsequent  information,  he  left  the  Columbia  at  the 
mouth  of  Malheur  river;  and,  making  his  way  to  the  head  waters  of  the 
Sacramento  with  a part  of  his  company,  travelled  dowm  that  river  to  the 
settlements  of  Nueva  Helvetia.  The  other  party,  to  whom  he  had  com- 
mitted his  wagons,  and  mill  irons  and  saws,  took  a course  further  to  the 
south,  and  the  wagons  and  their  contents  were  lost. 

On  the  22d  we  made  a preparatory  move,  and  encamped  near  the  settle- 
ment of  Mr.  Sinclair,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos.  I had 
discharged  five  of  the  party  : Neal,  the  blacksmith,  (an  excellent  workman, 
and  an  unmarried  man,  who  had  done  his  duty  faithfully,  and  had  been  of 
very  great  service  to  me,)  desired  to  remain,  as  strong  inducements  were 
offered  here  to  mechanics.  Although  at  considerable  inconvenience  to  my- 
self, his  good  conduct  induced  me  to  comply  with  his  request  ; and  I ob- 
tained for  him,  from  Captain  Sutter,  a present  compensation  of  twTo  dollars 
and  a half  per  diem,  with  a promise  that  it  should  beincreased  to  five,  if  he 
proved  as  good  a workman  as  had  been  represented.  He  wras  more  par- 
ticularly an  agricultural  blacksmith.  The  other  men  were  discharged  with 
their  own  consent. 


248 


[ 174  ] 

While  we  remained  at  this  place,  Derosier,  one  of  our  best  men,  whose 
steady  good  conduct  had  won  my  regard,  wandered  off  from  the  camp,  and 
never  returned  to  it  again  ; nor  has  he  since  been  heard  of. 

March  24. — We  resumed  our  journey  with  an  ample  stock  of  provisions 
and  a large  cavalcade  of  animals,  consisting  of  130  horses  and  mules,  and 
about  thirty  head  of  cattle,  five  of  which  were  milch  cows.  Mr.  Sutter 
furnished  us  also  w ith  an  Indian  boy,  who  had  been  trained  as  a vaquero , 
and  who  would  be  serviceable  in  managing  our  cavalcade,  great  part  ol 
which  were  nearly  as  wild  as  buffalo  ; and  who  was,  besides,  very  anxious 
to  go  along  with  us.  Our  direct  course  home  was  east;  but  the  Sierra 
would  force  us  south,  above  five  hundred  miles  of  travelling,  to  a pass  at 
the  head  of  the  San  Joaquin  river.  This  pass,  reported  to  be  good,  w7as 
discovered  by  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  of  whom  I have  already  spoken,  and 
whose  name  it  might  therefore  appropriately  bear.  To  reach  it,  our  course 
lay  along  the  valley  of  the  San  Joaquin — the  river  on  our  right,  and  the  lofty 
wrall  of  the  impassable  Sierra  on  the  left.  From  that  pass  we  were  to  move 
southeastwardly, having  the  Sierra  then  on  the  right,  and  reach  the  “ Spanish 
trail”  deviously  traced  fromone  watering  place  to  another,  which  constitut- 
ed the  route  of  the  caravans  from  Puebla  delos  Angeles,  near  the  coast  of 
the  Pacific,  to  Santa  Fe  of  New  Mexico.  From  the  pass  to  this  trail  was  150 
miles.  Following  that  trail  through  a desert,  relieved  by  some  fertile  plains 
indicated  by  the  recurrence  of  the  term  vegas , until  it  turned  to  the  right 
to  cross  the  Colorado,  our  course  would  be  northeast  until  we  regained  the 
latitude  we  had  lost  in  arriving  at  the  Eutah  lake,  and  thence  to  the  Rocky 
mountains  at  the  head  of  the  Arkansas.  This  conrse  of  travelling,  forced 
upon  us  by  the  structure  of  the  country,  would  occupy  a computed  distance 
of  twro  thousand  miles  before  we  reached  the  head  of  the  Arkansas  ; not  a 
settlement  to  be  seen  upon  it;  and  the  names  of  places  along  it,  all  being 
Spanish  or  Indian,  indicated  that  it  had  been  but  little  trod  by  American 
feet.  Though  long,  and  not  free  from  hardships,  this  route  presented  some 
points  of  attraction,  in  tracing  the  Sierra  Nevada — turning  the  Great  Basin, 
perhaps  crossing  its  rim  on  the  south — completely  solving  the  problem  of 
any  river,  except  the  Colorado,  from  the  Rocky  mountains  on  that  part  of 
our  continent — and  seeing  the  southern  extremity  of  the  Great  Salt  lake, 
of  which  the  northern  part  had  been  examined  the  year  before. 

Taking  leave  of  Mr.  Sutter,  who,  with  several  gentlemen,  accompanied  us 
a fewmiles  onourway,  we  travelled  about  eighteen  miles,  and  encamped  on 
the  Rio  de  los  Cosumnes , a stream  receiving  its  name  from  the  Indians  who 
live  in  its  valley.  Our  road  was  through  a level  country,  admirably  suited 
to  cultivation,  and  covered  with  groves  of  oak  trees,  principally  the  ever- 
green oak,  and  a large  oak  already  mentioned,  in  form  like  those  of  the 
white  oak.  The  weather,  which  here,  at  this  season,  can  easily  be  changed 
from  the  summer  heat  of  the  valley  to  the  frosty  mornings  and  bright  days 
nearer  the  mountains,  continued  delightful  for  travellers,  but  unfavorable 
to  the  agriculturists,  whose  crops  of  wheat  began  to  wear  a yellow  tinge 
from  want  of  rain. 

March  25. — We  travelled  for  2S  miles  over  the  same  delightful  country 
as  yesterday,  and  halted  in  a beautiful  bottom  at  the  ford  of  the  Rio  delos 
Mukelemnes , receiving  its  name  from  another  Indian  tribe  living  on  the 
river.  The  bottoms  on  the  stream  are  broad,  rich,  and  extremely  ferti  e; 
and  the  uplands  are  shaded  with  oak  groves.  A showy  lupinus  of  extra- 
ordinary beauty,  growing  four  to  five  feet  in  height,  and  covered  with 


249  [ 174  ] 

apikes  in  bloom,  adorned  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  filled  the  air  with  a 
light  and  grateful  perfume. 

On  the  26th  we  halted  at  the  Arroyo  de  las  Calaveras , (Skull  creek,)  a 
tributary  to  the  San  Joaquin — the  previous  two  streams  entering  the  bay 
between  the  San  Joaquin  and  Sacramento  rivers.  This  place  is  beautiful, 
with  open  groves  of  oak,  and  a grassy  sward  beneath,  with  many  plants  in 
bloom  ; some  varieties  of  which  seem  to  love  the  shade  of  the  trees,  and 
grow  there  in  close  small  fields.  Near  the  river,  and  replacing  the  grass, 
are  great  quantities  of  ammo/e,  (soap  plant,)  the  leaves  of  which  are  used 
in  California  for  making,  among  other  things,  mats  for  saddle  cloths.  A 
vine  with  a small  white  flower,  ( melothria  ,?)  called  here  la  yerba  buena , 
and  which,  from  its  abundance,  gives  name  to  an  island  and  town  in  the 
bay,  was  to-day  very  frequent  on  our  road — sometimes  running  on  the 
ground  or  climbing  the  trees. 

March  27. — To-day  we  travelled  steadily  and  rapidly  up  the  valley  ; for, 
with  our  wild  animals,  any  other  gait  was  impossible,  and  making  about 
five  miles  an  hour.  During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day,  our  ride  had  been 
over  a very  level  prairie,  or  rather  a succession  of  long  stretches  of  prairie, 
separated  by  lines  and  groves  of  oak  timber,  growing  along  dry  gullies, 
which  are  filled  with  water  in  seasons  of  rain  ; and,  perhaps,  also,  by  the 
melting  snows.  Over  much  of  this  extent,  the  vegetation  was  sparse  ; the 
surface  showing  plainly  the  action  of  water,  which,  in  the  season  of  flood, 
the  Joaquin  spreads  over  the  valley.  About  1 o’clock  we  came  again 
among  innumerable  flowers  ; and  a few  miles  further,  fields  of  the  beautiful 
blue -flowering  lupine , which  seems  to  love  the  neighborhood  of  water,  indi- 
cated that  we  were  approaching  a stream.  We  here  found  this  beautiful 
shrub  in  thickets,  some  of  them  being  12  feet  in  height.  Occasionally  three 
or  four  plants  were  clustered  together,  forming  a grand  bouquet,  about  90 
feet  in  circumference,  and  10  feet  high  ; the  whole  summit  covered  with 
spikes  of  flowers,  the  perfume  of  which  is  very  sweet  and  grateful.  A lover 
of  natural  beauty  can  imagine  with  what  pleasure  we  rode  among  these 
flowering  groves,  which  filled  the  air  with  a light  and  delicate  fragrance. 
We  continued  our  road  for  about  half  a mile,  interspersed  through  an  open 
grove  of  live  oaks,  which,  in  form,  were  the  most  symmetrical  and  beautiful 
we  had  yet  seen  in  this  country.  The  ends  of  their  branches  rested  on  the 
ground,  forming  somewhat  more  than  a half  sphere  of  very  full  and  regular 
figure,  with  leaves  apparently  smaller  than  usual. 

The  Californian  poppy,  of  a rich  orange  color,  was  numerous  to-day. 
Elk  and  several  bands  of  antelope  made  their  appearance. 

Our  road  was  now  one  continued  enjoyment ; and  it  was  pleasant,  riding 
among  this  assemblage  of  green  pastures  with  varied  flowTers  and  scattered 
groves,  and  out  of  the  warm  green  spring,  to  look  at  the  rocky  and  snowy 
peaks  where  lately  we  had  suffered  so  much.  Emerging  from  the  timber, 
we  came  suddenly  upon  the  Stanislaus  river,  where  we  hoped  to  find  a 
ford,  but  the  stream  was  flowing  by,  dark  and  deep,  swTollen  by  the  moun- 
tain snows;  its  general  breadth  was  about  50  yards. 

We  travelled  about  five  miles  up  the  river,  and  encamped  without  being 
able  to  find  a ford.  Here  we  made  a large  coral , in  order  to  be  able  to 
catch  a sufficient  number  of  our  wild  animals  to  relieve  those  previously 
packed. 

Under  the  shade  of  the  oaks,  along  the  river,  I noticed  erodium  cicuta - 
rium  in  bloom,  eight  or  ten  inches  high.  This  is  the  plant  which  we  had 


250 


[ 174  ] 

seen  the  squaws  gathering  on  the  Rio  de  los  Americanos.  By  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  valley,  it  is  highly  esteemed  for  fattening  cattle,  which  appear 
to  be  very  fond  of  it.  Here,  where  the  soil  begins  to  be  sandy,  it  supplies 
to  a considerable  extent  the  want  of  grass. 

Desirous,  as  far  as  possible,  without  delay,  to  include  in  our  examination 
the  San  Joaquin  river,  I returned  this  morning  down  the  Stanislaus  for  17 
miles,  and  again  encamped  without  having  found  a fording  place.  After 
following  it  for  8 miles  further  the  next  morning,  and  finding  ourselves  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  San  Joaquin,  encamped  in  a handsome  oak  grove,  and, 
several  cattle  beingkilled,  we  ferried  over  our  baggage  in  their  skins.  Here 
our  Indian  boy,  who  probably  had  not  much  idea  of  where  he  was  going, 
and  began  to  be  alarmed  at  the  many  streams  which  we  were  rapidly  put- 
ting between  him  and  the  village,  deserted. 

Thirteen  head  of  cattle  took  a sudden  fright,  while  we  were  driving  them 
across  the  river,  and  galloped  off.  I remained  a day  in  the  endeavor  to 
recover  them  ; but,  finding  they  had  taken  the  trail  back  to  the  fort,  let  them 
go  without  further  effort.  Here  we  had  several  days  of  warm  and  pleasant 
rain,  which  doubtless  saved  the  crops  below. 

On  the  1st  of  April,  we  made  10  miles  across  a prairie  without  timber, 
when  we  were  stopped  again  by  another  large  river,  which  is  called  the 
Rio  de  la  Merced , (river  of  our  Lady  of  Mercy.)  Here  the  country  had 
lost  its  character  of  extreme  fertility,  the  soil  having  become  more  sandy 
and  light ; but,  for  several  days  past,  its  beauty  had  been  increased  by  the 
additional  animation  of  animal  life  ; and  now,  it  is  crowded  with  bands  of 
elk  and  wild  horses  ; and  along  the  rivers  are  frequent  fresh  tracks  of  griz- 
zly bear,  which  are  unusually  numerous  in  this  country. 

Our  route  had  been  along  the  timber  of  the  San  Joaquin,  generally  about 
8 miles  distant,  over  a high  prairie. 

In  one  of  the  bands  of  elk  seen  to-day,  there  were  about  200  ; but  the 
larger  bands,  both  of  these  and  wild  horses,  are  generally  found  on  the  other 
side  of  the  river,  which,  for  that  reason,  I avoided  crossing.  I had  been 
informed  below,  that  the  droves  of  wild  horses  were  almost  invariably  found 
on  the  western  bank  of  the  river  ; and  the  danger  of  losing  our  animals 
among  them,  together  with  the  wish  of  adding  to  our  reconnoissance  the 
numerous  streams  which  run  down  from  the  Sierra,  decided  me  to  travel 
up  the  eastern  bank. 

April  2. — The  day  was  occupied  in  building  a boat,  and  ferrying  our 
baggage  across  the  river  ; and  we  encamped  on  the  bank.  A large  fishing 
eagle,  with  white  head  and  tail,  was  slowly  sailing  along,  looking  after  sal- 
mon ; and  there  were  some  pretty  birds  in  the  timber,  with  partridges, 
ducks,  and  geese  innumerable  in  the  neighborhood.  We  were  struck  with 
the  tameness  of  the  latter  bird  at  Helvetia,  scattered  about  in  flocks  near 
the  wheat  fields,  and  eating  grass  on  the  prairie  ; a horseman  would  ride  by 
within  SO  yards,  without  disturbing  them. 

April  3. — To-day  we  touched  several  times  the  San  Joaquin  river — here 
a fine-looking  tranquil  stream,  with  a slight  current,  and  apparently  deep. 
It  resembled  the  Missouri  in  color,  with  occasional  points  of  white  sand  ; 
and  its  banks,  where  steep,  were  a kind  of  sandy  clay  ; its  average  width 
appeared  to  be  about  eighty  yards.  In  the  bottoms  are  frequent  ponds, 
where  our  approach  disturbed  multitudes  of  wild  fowl,  principally  geese. 
Skirting  along  the  timber,  we  frequently  started  elk  ; and  large  bands  were 
seen  during  the  day,  with  antelope  and  wild  horses.  The  low  country  and 


251 


C 174  ] 

the  timber  rendered  it  difficult  to  keep  the  main  line  of  the  river  ; and  this 
evening  we  encamped  on  a tributary  stream,  about  five  miles  from  it3 
mouth.  On  the  prairie  bordering  the  San  Joaquin  bottoms,  there  occurred 
during  the  day  but  little  grass,  and  in  its  place  was  a sparse  and  dwarf 
growth  of  plants  ; the  soil  being  sandy,  with  small  bare  places  and  hillocks, 
reminded  me  much  of  the  Platte  bottoms  ; but,  on  approaching  the  timber, 
we  found  a more  luxuriant  vegetation  ; and  at  our  camp  was  an  abundance 
of  grass  and  pea  vines. 

The  foliage  of  the  oak  is  getting  darker  ; and  every  thing,  except  that  the 
weather  is  a little  cool,  shows  that  spring  is  rapidly  advancing  ; and  to-day 
we  had  quite  a summer  rain. 

April  4. — Commenced  to  rain  at  daylight,  but  cleared  off  brightly  at  sun- 
rise. We  ferried  the  river  without  any  difficulty,  and  continued  up  the  San 
Joaquin.  Elk  were  running  in  bands  over  the  prairie  and  in  the  skirt  of 
the  timber.  We  reached  the  river  again  at  the  mouth  of  a large  slough, 
which  we  were  unable  to  ford,  and  made  a circuit  of  several  miles  around. 
Here  the  country  appears  very  flat;  oak  trees  have  entirely  disappeared, 
and  are  replaced  by  a large  willow,  nearly  equal  to  it  in  size.  The  river  is 
about  a hundred  yards  in  breadth,  branching  into  sloughs,  and  interspersed 
with  islands.  At  this  time  it  appears  sufficiently  deep  for  a small  steamer, 
but  its  navigation  w’ould  be  broken  by  shallows  at  low  water.  Bearing  in 
towards  the  river,  we  were  again  forced  off  by  another  slough  ; and,  pass- 
ing around,  steered  towards  a clump  of  trees  on  the  river,  and,  finding 
there  good  grass,  encamped.  The  prairies  along  the  left  bank  are  alive 
with  immense  droves  of  wild  horses ; and  they  had  been  seen  during  the 
day  at  every  opening  through  the  woods  which  afforded  us  a view  across 
the  river.  Latitude,  by  observation,  37°  08'  00"  ; longitude  120°  45'  22." 

April  5. — During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day’s  ride,  the  country  presented 
a lacustrine  appearance  ; the  river  was  deep,  and  nearly  on  a level  with  the 
surrounding  country  ; its  banks  raised  like  a levee,  and  fringed  with  wil- 
lows. Over  the  bordering  plain  were  interspersed  spots  of  prairie  among 
fields  of  tule  (bulrushes,)  which  in  this  country  are  called  tulares , and  lit- 
tle ponds.  On  the  opposite  side,  a line  of  timber  was  visible,  which,  ac- 
cording to  information,  points  out  the  course  of  the  slough,  which,  at  times 
of  high  water,  connects  with  the  San  Joaquin  river — a large  body  of  water  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  valley,  called  the  Tule  lakes.  The  river  and  all  its 
sloughs  are  very  full,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  lake  is  now  discharging. 
Here  elk  wrere  frequently  started,  and  one  was  shot  out  of  a band  which  ran 
around  us.  On  our  left,  the  Sierra  maintains  its  snowy  height,  and  masses 
of  snow  appear  to  descend  very  low  towards  the  plains ; probably  the  late 
rains  in  the  valley  were  snow  on  the  mountains.  We  travelled  37  miles, 
and  encamped  on  the  river.  Longitude  of  the  camp,  120°  28'  34",  and 
latitude  36°  49'  12". 

April  6. — After  having  travelled  15  miles  along  the  river,  we  made  an 
early  halt,  under  the  shade  of  sycamore  trees.  Here  we  found  the  San 
Joaquin  coming  down  from  the  Sierra  with  a westerly  course,  and  check- 
ing our  way,  as  all  its  tributaries  had  previously  done.  We  had  expected 
to  raft  the  river ; but  found  a good  ford,  and  encamped  on  the  opposite  bank, 
where  droves  of  wild  horses  were  raising  clouds  of  dust  on  the  prairie. 
Columns  of  smoke  were  visible  in  the  direction  of  the  Tule  lakes  to  the 
southward — probably  kindled  in  the  tulares  by  the  Indians,  as  signals  that 
there  were  strangers  in  the  valley. 


252 


[ 174  ] 

We  made,  on  the  7th,  a hard  march  in  a cold  chilly  rain  from  morning 
until  night — the  weather  so  thick  that  we  travelled  by  compass.  This  wTas 
a traverse  from  the  San  Joaquin  to  the  waters  of  the  Tule  lakes,  and  our 
road  was  over  a very  level  prairie  country.  We  saw  wolves  frequency 
during  the  day,  prowling  about  after  the  young  antelope,  which  cannot  run 
very  fast.  These  were  numerous  during  the  day,  and  two  were  caught  by 
the  people. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  we  discovered  timber,  which  was  found  to  be 
groves  of  oak  trees  on  a dry  arroyo.  The  rain,  which  had  fallen  in  fre- 
quent showers,  poured  down  in  a storm  at  sunset,  with  a strong  wind, 
which  swept  off  the  clouds,  and  left  a clear  sky.  Riding  on  through  the 
timber,  about  dark  we  found  abundant  water  in  small  ponds,  20  to  30  yards 
in  diameter,  with  clear  deep  water  and  sandy  beds,  bordered  with  bog 
rushes  ( juncus  effusus,)  and  a tall  rush  ( scirpus  lacustris)  12  feet  high, 
and  surrounded  near  the  margin  with  willow  trees  in  bloom  ; among  them 
one  which  resembled  salix  myricoides.  The  oak  of  the  groves  was  the 
same  already  mentioned,  with  small  leaves,  in  form  like  those  of  the  white 
oak,  and  forming,  with  the  evergreen  oak,  the  characteristic  trees  of  the 
valley. 

April  S. — After  a ride  of  two  miles  through  brush  and  open  groves,  we 
reached  a large  stream,  called  the  River  of  the  Lake,  resembling  in  size  the 
San  Joaquin,  and  being  about  100  yards  broad.  This  is  the  principal  trib- 
utary to  the  Tule  lakes,  which  collect  all  the  waters  in  the  upper  part  of 
the  valley.  While  we  were  searching  for  a ford,  some  Indians  appeared  on 
the  opposite  bank,  and,  having  discovered  that  we  were  not  Spanish  sol- 
diers, showed  us  the  way  to  a good  ford  several  miles  above. 

The  Indians  of  the  Sierra  make  frequent  descents  upon  the  settlements 
west  of  the  Coast  Range,  which  they  keep  constantly  swept  of  horses ; 
among  them  are  many  who  are  called  Christian  Indians,  being  refugees 
from  Spanish  missions.  Several  of  these  incursions  occurred  while  we 
were  at  Helvetia.  Occasionally  parties  of  soldiers  follow  them  across  the 
Coast  Range,  but  never  enter  the  Sierra. 

On  the  opposite  side  we  found  some  forty  or  fifty  Indians,  who  had  come 
to  meet  us  from  the  village  below.  We  made  them  some  small  presents, 
and  invited  them  to  accompany  us  to  our  encampment,  which,  after  about 
three  miles  through  fine  oak  groves,  we  made  on  the  river.  We  made  a 
fort,  principally  on  account  of  our  animals.  The  Indians  brought  otter 
skins,  and  several  kinds  of  fish,  and  bread  made  of  acorns,  to  trade.  A mong 
them  were  several  who  had  come  to  live  among  these  Indians  when  the 
missions  were  broken  up,  and  who  spoke  Spanish  fluently.  They  informed 
us  that  they  were  called  by  the  Spaniards  mansitos , (tame,)  in  distinction 
from  the  wilder  tribes  of  the  mountains.  They,  however,  think  themselves 
very  insecure,  not  knowing  at  what  unforeseen  moment  the  sins  of  the 
latter  may  be  visited  on  them.  They  are  dark-skinned,  but  handsome  and 
intelligent  Indians,  and  live  principally  on  acorns  and  the  roots  of  the  tule, 
of  which  also  their  huts  are  made. 

By  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  encampment  is  36°  24'  50",  and  lon- 
gitude 119°  41 ' 40". 

April  9. — For  several  miles  we  had  very  bad  travelling  over  what  is 
called  rotten  ground,  in  which  the  horses  were  frequently  up  to  their  knees. 
Making  towards  a line  of  timber,  we  found  a small  fordable  stream,  beyond 
which  the  country  improved,  and  the  grass  became  excellent ; and,  crossing 


2 53 


[ 174  ] 

a number  of  dry  and  timbered  arroyos , we  travelled  until  late  through  open 
oak  groves,  and  encamped  among  a collection  of  streams.  These  were 
running  among  rushes  and  willows;  and,  as  usual,  flocks  of  blackbirds 
announced  our  approach  to  water.  We  have  here  approached  considerably 
nearer  to  the  eastern  Sierra,  which  shows  very  plainly,  still  covered  with 
masses  of  snow,  which  yesterday  and  to-day  has  also  appeared  abundant 
on  the  Coast  Range. 

April  10. — To-day  we  made  another  long  journey  of  about  forty  miles, 
through  a country  uninteresting  and  flat,  with  very  little  grass  and  a sandy 
soil,  in  which  several  branches  we  crossed  had  lost  their  water.  In  the 
evening  the  face  of  the  country  became  hilly;  and,  turning  a few  miles 
up  towards  the  mountains,  we  found  a good  encampment  on  a pretty  stream 
hidden  among  the  hills,  and  handsomely  timbered,  principally  with  large 
cottonwoods,  ( populus , differing  from  any  in  Michaux’s  Sylva.)  The 
seed  vessels  of  this  tree  were  now  just  about  bursting. 

Several  Indians  came  down  the  river  to  see  us  in  the  evening:  we  gave 
them  supper,  and  cautioned  them  against  stealing  our  horses;  which  they 
promised  not  to  attempt. 

April  11. — A broad  trail  along  the  river  here  takes  out  among  the  hills. 
“ Buen  camino,”  (good  road,)  said  one  of  the  Indians,  of  whom  we  had 
inquired  about  the  pass ; and,  following  it  accordingly,  it  conducted  us  beau- 
tifully through  a very  broken  country,  by  an  excellent  way,  which,  other- 
wise, we  should  have  found  extremely  bad.  Taken  separately,  the  hills 
present  smooth  and  graceful  outlines,  but,  together,  make  bad  travelling 
ground.  Instead  of  grass,  the  whole  face  of  the  country  is  closely  covered 
with  erodium  cicutarium , here  only  two  or  three  inches  high.  Its  height 
and  beauty  varied  in  a remarkable  manner  with  the  locality,  being,  in  many 
low  places  which  we  passed  during  the  day,  around  streams  and  springs^ 
two  and  three  feet  in  height.  The  country  had  now  assumed  a character 
of  aridity;  and  the  luxuriant  green  of  these  little  streams,  wooded  with 
willow1,  oak,  or  sycamore,  looked  very  refreshing  among  the  sandy  hills. 

In  the  evening  we  encamped  on  a large  creek,  with  abundant  water.  I 
noticed  here  in  bloom,  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  the  Arkansas  waters 
the  mirabilis  Jalapa. 

Jdpril  12. — Along  our  road  to-day  the  country  was  altogether  sandy,  and 
vegetation  meager.  Ephedra  occidentalism  which  we  had  first  seen  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  Pyramid  lake,  made  its  appearance  here,  and  in  the 
course  of  the  day  became  verj'  abundant,  and  in  large  bushes.  Towards 
the  close  of  the  afternoon,  we  reached  a tolerably  large  river,  which  emp- 
ties into  a small  lake  at  the  head  of  the  valley  ; it  is  about  thirty-five  yards 
wide,  with  a stony  and  gravelly  bed,  and  the  swiftest  stream  we  have 
crossed  since  leaving  the  bay.  The  bottoms  produced  no  grass,  though 
well  timbered  with  willow  and  cottonwood  ; and,  after  ascending  it  for 
several  miles,  we  made  a late  encampment  on  a little  bottom,  with  scanty 
grass.  In  greater  part,  the  vegetation  along  our  road  consisted  now  of 
rare  and  unusual  plants,  among  which  many  were  entirely  new. 

Along  the  bottoms  were  thickets  consisting  of  several  varieties  of  shrubs 
which  made  here  their  first  appearance  ; and  among  these  wras  Garrya 
elliptica , (Lindley,)  a small  tree  belonging  to  a very  peculiar  natural  or- 
der, and,  in  its  general  appearance,  (growing  in  thickets,)  resembling 
willow.  It  now  became  common  along  the  streams,  frequently  supplying 
the  place  of  salix  longifolia. 


254 


C 174  ] 

April  13. — The  water  was  low,  and  a few  miles  above  we  forded  the 
river  at  a rapid,  and  marched  in  a southeasterly  direction  over  a less  broken 
country.  The  mountains  were  now  very  near,  occasionally  looming  out 
through  fog.  In  a few  hours  we  reached  the  bottom  of  a creek  without 
water,  over  which  the  sandy  beds  were  dispersed  in  many  branches.  Im- 
mediately where  we  struck  it,  the  timber  terminated  ; and  below,  to  the 
right,  it  was  a broad  bed  of  dry  and  bare  sands.  There  were  many  tracks 
of  Indians  and  horses  imprinted  in  the  sand,  which,  with  other  indications, 
informed  us  was  the  creek  issuing  from  the  pass,  and  which  on  the  map 
we  have  called  Pass  creek.  We  ascended  a trail  for  a few  miles  along  the 
creek,  and  suddenly  found  a stream  of  water  five  feet  wide,  tunning  with 
a lively  current,  but  losing  itself  almost  immediately.  This  little  stream 
showed  plainly  the  manner  in  which  the  mountain  waters  lose  themselves 
in  sand  at  the  eastern  foot  of  the  Sierra,  leaving  only  a parched  desert  and 
arid  plains  beyond.  The  stream  enlarged  rapidly,  and  the  timber  became 
abundant  as  wfe  ascended.  A new  species  of  pine  made  its  appearance, 
with  several  kinds  of  oaks,  and  a variety  of  trees;  and  the  country  chang- 
ing its  appearance  suddenly  and  entirely,  we  found  ourselves  again  travel- 
ling among  the  old  orchard-like  places.  Here  we  selected  a delightful  en- 
campment in  a handsome  green  oak  hollow,  where,  among  the  open  bolls 
of  the  trees,  was  an  abundant  sward  of  grass  and  pea  vines.  In  the  even- 
ing a Christian  Indian  rode  into  the  camp,  well  dressed,  wTith  long  spurs, 
and  a sombrero , and  speaking  Spanish  fluently.  It  was  an  unexpected  ap- 
parition, and  a strange  and  pleasant  sight  in  this  desolate  gorge  of  a moun- 
tain— an  Indian  face,  Spanish  costume,  jingling  spurs,  and  horse  equipped 
after  the  Spanish  manner.  He  informed  me  that  he  belonged  to  one  of  the 
Spanish  missions  to  the  south,  distant  tvvo  or  three  days’  ride,  and  that  he 
had  obtained  from  the  priests  leave  to  spend  a fewr  days  with  his  relations 
in  the  Sierra.  Having  seen  us  enter  th e pass,  he  had  come  down  to  visit 
us.  lie  appeared  familiarly  acquainted  with  the  country,  and  gave  me 
definite  and  clear  information  in  regard  to  the  desert  region  east  of  the 
mountains.  I had  entered  the  pass  with  a strong  disposition  to  vary  my 
route,  and  to  travel  directly  across  towards  the  Great  Salt  lake,  in  the  view 
of  obtaining  some  acquaintance  w ith  the  interior  of  the  Great  Basin,  while 
pursuing  a direct  course  for  the  frontier  ; but  his  representation,  which  de- 
scribed it  as  an  arid  and  barren  desert,  that  had  repulsed  by  its  stei  ility  all 
the  attempts  of  the  Indians  to  penetrate  it,  determined  me  for  the  present 
to  relinquish  the  plan;  and,  agieeably  to  his  advice,  after  crossing  the 
Sierra,  continue  our  intended  route  along  its  eastern  base  to  the  Spanish 
trail.  By  this  route,  a party  of  six  Indians,  who  had  come  from  a great 
river  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  desert  to  trade  with  his  people,  had  just 
started  on  their  return.  He  would  himself  return  the  next  day  to  San 
Fernando ; and  as  our  roads  would  be  the  same  for  two  days,  he  offered 
his  ser  vices  to  conduct  us  so  far  on  our  way..  His  offer  was  gladly  accepted. 
The  fog,  which  had  somewhat  interfered  with  views  in  the  valley,  had  en- 
tirely passed  off,  and  left  a clear  sky.  That  which  had  enveloped  us  in 
the  neighborhood  of  ihe  pass  proceeded  evidently  from  fires  kindled  among 
the  tulares  by  Indians  living  near  the  lakes,  and  which  were  intended  to 
warn  those  in  the  mountains  that  there  were  strangers  in  the  valley.  Our 
position  wjs  in  latitude  35°  17'  12",  and  longitude  1 18°  35'  03". 

•April  14. — Our  guide  joined  us  this  morning  on  the  trail;  and,  arriving 
in  a short  distance  at  an  open  bottom  where  the  creek  forked,  we  continued 


255 


[ 174  ] 

up  the  right-hand  branch,  which  was  enriched  by  a profusion  of  flowers, 
and  handsomely  wooded  with  sycamore,  oaks,  cottonwood, and  willow,  with 
other  trees,  and  some  shrubby  plants.  In  its  long  strings  of  balls,  this 
sycamore  differs  from  that  of  the  United  States,  and  is  the  platanus  occi- 
dentalis  of  Hooker — a new  species,  recently  described  among  the  plants 
collected  in  the  voyage  of  the  Sulphur.  The  cottonwood  varied  its  foliage 
with  white  tufts,  and  the  feathery  seeds  were  flying  plentifully  through  the 
air.  Gooseberries,  nearly  ripe,  were  very  abundant  on  the  mountain  ; and 
as  we  passed  the  dividing  grounds,  which  were  not  very  easy  to  ascertain, 
the  air  was  filled  with  peifume,asif  we  were  entering  a highly  cultivated 
garden  ; and,  instead  of  green,  our  pathway  and  the  mountain  sides  were 
coves ed  with  fields  of  yellow  flowers,  w hich  here  was  the  prevailing  color. 
Our  journey  to-day  w7as  in  the  midst  of  an  advanced  spring,  whose  green 
and  floral  beauty  offered  a delightful  contrast  to  the  sandy  valley  we  had 
just  left.  All  the  day,  snow’  was  in  sight  on  the  butt  of  the  mountain,  which 
frowned  dow7n  upon  us  on  the  right  ; but  we  beheld  it  now  w ith  feelings 
of  pleasant  secur  ity,  as  we  rode  along  between  green  trees  and  on  flowers, 
with  humming  birds  and  other  feathered  friends  of  the  traveller  enlivening 
the  serene  spring  air.  As  we  reached  the  summit  of  this  beautiful  pass, 
and  obtained  a view7  into  the  eastern  country,  we  saw  at  once  that  here 
was  the  place  to  take  leave  of  all  such  pleasant  scenes  as  those  around  us. 
The  distant  mountains  were  now  bald  rocks  again  ; and  below,  the  land 
had  any  color  but  green.  Taking  into  consideration  the  nature  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  we  found  this  pass  an  excellent  one  for  horses  ; and  with 
a little  labor,  or  perhaps  with  a more  perfect  examination  of  the  localities, 
it  might  be  made  sufficiently  practicable  for  wagons.  Its  latitude  and  lon- 
gitude may  be  considered  that  of  our  last  encampment,  only  a few  miles 
distant.  The  elevation  was  not  taken — our  half-wild  cavalcade  making  it 
too  troublesome  to  halt  before  night,  when  once  started. 

We  here  left  the  waters  of  the  bay  of  San  Francisco,  and,  though  forced 
upon  them  contrary  to  my  intentions,  I cannot  regret  the  necessity  which 
occasioned  the  deviation.  It  made  me  well  acquainted  with  the  great 
range  off  the  Sierra  Nevada  of  the  Alta  California,  and  showed  that  this 
broad  and  elevated  snowy  ridge  was  a continuation  of  the  Cascade  Range 
of  Oregon,  between  which  and  the  ocean  there  is  still  another  and  a lower 
range,  parallel  to  the  former  and  to  the  coast,  and  which  may  be  called  the 
Coast  Range.  It  also  made  me  well  acquainted  with  the  basin  of  the  San 
Francisco  bay,  and  with  the  two  pretty  rivers  and  their  valleys,  ( the  Sacra- 
mento and  San  Joaquin,)  which  are  tributary  to  that  bay  ; and  cleared  up 
gome  points  in  geography  on  which  error  had  long  prevailed.  It  had  been 
constantly  represented,  as  I have  alr  eady  stated,  that  the  bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco opened  far  into  the  interior,  by  some  river  coming  down  from  the 
base  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  upon  which  supposed  stream  the  name 
of  Rio  Buenaventur  a had  been  bestowed.  Our  observations  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  in  the  longdistance  from  the  head  of  the  Sacramento  to  the  head 
of  the  S-an  Joaquin,  and  of  the  valley  below  it,  which  collects  all  the  waters 
of  (he  San  Francisco  bay,  show  that  this  neither  is  nor  can  be  the  case. 
No  river  from  the  interior  does, or  can,  cross  the  Sierra  Nevada — itself  more 
lofty  than  the  Rocky  mountains  ; and  as  to  the  Buenaventura,  the  mouth 
of  which  seen  on  the  coast  gave  die  idea  and  the  name  of  the  reputed  groat 
river,  it  is,  in  fact,  a small  stream  of  no  consequence,  not  only  below  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  but  actually  below  the  Coast  Range — -taking  its  rise  within 


256 


C 174  ] 

half  a degree  of  the  ocean,  running  parallel  to  it  for  about  two  degrees, 
and  then  falling  into  the  Pacific  near  Monterey.  There  is  no  opening  from 
the  bay  of  San  Francisco  into  the  interior  of  the  continent.  The  two 
rivers  which  flow  into  it  are  comparatively  shoit,  and  not  perpendicular 
to  the  coast,  but  lateral  to  it,  and  having  their  heads  towards  Oregon  and 
southern  California.  They  open  lines  of  communication  north  and  south, 
and  not  eastwardly  ; and  thus  this  want  of  interior  communication  from 
the  San  Francisco  bay,  now  fully  ascertained,  gives  great  additional  value 
to  the  Columbia,  which  stands  alone  as  the  only  great  river  on  the  Pacific 
slope  of  our  continent  which  leads  from  the  ocean  to  the  Rocky  mountains, 
and  opens  a line  of  communication  from  the  sea  to  the  valley  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. 

Four  comparieros  joined  our  guide  at  the  pass  ; and  two  going  back  at 
noon,  the  others  continued  on  in  company.  Descending  from  the  hills,  we 
reached  a country  of  fine  grass,  w here  the  erodium  cicutarium  finally  dis- 
appeared, giving  place  to  an  excellent  quality  of  bunch  grass.  Passing  by 
some  springs  where  there  was  a rich  sward  of  grass  among  groves  of  large 
black  oak,  wre  rode  over  a plain  on  which  the  guide  pointed  out  a spot 
where  a refugee  Christian  Indian  had  been  killed  by  a party  of  soldiers 
which  had  unexpectedly  penetrated  into  the  mountains.  Crossing  a low 
sierra,  and  descending  a hollow  w here  a spring  gushed  out,  we  were  struck 
by  the  sudden  appearance  of  yucca  trees,  which  gave  a strange  and  south- 
ern character  to  the  country,  and  suited  well  with  the  dry  and  desert  re- 
gion wre  were  approaching.  Associated  with  the  idea  of  barren  sands,  their 
stiff  and  ungraceful  form  makes  them  to  the  traveller  the  most  repulsive 
tree  in  the  vegetable  kingdom.  Following  the  hollow,  we  shortly  came 
upon  a creek  timbered  with  large  black  oak,  which  yet  had  not  put  forth  a 
leaf.  There  was  a small  rivulet  of  running  water,  with  good  grass. 

April  15. — The  Indians  wrho  had  accompanied  the  guide  returned  this 
morning,  and  I purchased  from  them  a Spanish  saddle  and  long  spurs,  as 
reminiscences  of  the  time  ; and  for  a few  yards  of  scarlet  cloth  they  gave 
me  a horse,  which  afterwards  became  food  for  other  Indians. 

We  continued  a short  distance  down  the  creek,  in  which  our  guide  in- 
formed us  that  the  water  very  soon  disappeared,  and  turned  directly  to  the 
southward  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain  ; the  trail  on  which  we  rode  ap- 
pearing to  describe  the  eastern  limit  of  travel,  where  water  and  grass  ter- 
minated. Crossing  a low  spur,  which  bordered  the  creek,  we  descended  to 
a kind  of  plain  among  the  lower  spurs  ; the  desert  being  in  full  view  on 
our  left,  apparently  illimitable.  A hot  mist  lay  over  it  to-day,  through 
which  it  had  a white  and  glistening  appearance  ; here  and  there  a few  dry- 
looking buttes  and  isolated  black  ridges  rose  suddenly  upon  it.  “ There, n 
said  our  guide,  stretching  out  his  hand  towards  it,  “there  are  the  great 
llanos , ( plains ; ) no  hay  agua  ; no  hay  zacaU — nada:  there  is  neither  water 
nor  grass — nothing  ; every  animal  that  goes  out  upon  them,  dies.”  It  was 
indeed  dismal  to  look  upon,  and  hard  to  conceive  so  great  a change  in  so 
short  a distance.  One  might  travel  the  wTorld  over,  without  finding  a valley 
more  fresh  and  verdant — more  floral  and  sjlvan — more  alive  with  birds 
and  animals — more  bounteously  watered — than  we  had  left  in  the  San  Joa- 
quin : here,  within  a few  miles  ride,  a vast  desert  plain  spread  before  us, 
from  which  the  boldest  traveller  tur  ed  away  in  despair. 

Directly  in  front  of  us,  at  some  distance  to  the  southward,  and  running 
out  in  an  easterly  direction  from  the  mountains,  stretched  a sierra,  having 


257  [ 174  { 

at  the  eastern  end  (perhaps  50  miles  distant)  some  snowy  peaks,  on  which, 
by  the  information  of  our  guide,  snow  rested  all  the  year. 

Our  cavalcade  made  a strange  and  grotesque  appearance;  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  avoid  reflecting  upon  our  position  and  composition  in  this  remote 
solitude.  Within  two  degrees  of  the  Pacific  ocean;  already  far  south  of  the 
latitude  of  Monterey;  and  still  forced  on  south  by  a desert  on  one  hand,  and 
a mountain  range  on  the  other;  guided  by  a civilized  Indian,  attended  by 
two  wild  ones  from  the  Sierra;  a Chinook  from  the  Columbia;  and  our  own. 
mixture  of  American,  French,  German — all  armed;  four  or  five  languages 
heard  at  once;  above  a hundred  horses  and  mules,  half  wild;  American, 
Spanish,  and  Indian  dresses  and  equipments  intermingled — such  was  our 
composition.  Our  march  was  a sort  of  procession.  Scouts  ahead,  and  on 
the  flanks ; a front  and  rear  division ; the  pack  animals,  baggage,  and 
horned  cattle,  in  the  centre  ; and  the  whole  stretching  a quarter  of  a mile 
along  our  dreary  path.  In  this  form  we  journeyed;  looking  more  like  we 
belonged  to  Asia  than  to  thb  United  States  of  America. 

We  continued  in  a southerly  direction  across  the  plain,  to  which,  as  well 
as  to  all  the  country  so  far  as  we  could  see,  the  yucca  trees  gave  a strange 
and  singular  character.  Several  new  plants  appeared,  among  which  was 
a zygophyllaceous  shrub  (, zygophyllum  Cali for nicum,  Torr.  & Frem.) 
sometimes  10  feet  in  height;  in  form,  and  in  the  pliancy  of  its  branches,  it 
is  rather  a graceful  plant.  Its  leaves  are  small,  covered  with  a resinous 
substance;  and,  particularly  when  bruised  and  crushed,  exhale  a singular 
but  very  agreeable  and  refreshing  odor.  This  shrub  and  the  yucca , with 
many  varieties  of  cactus,  make  the  characteristic  features  in  the  vegetation 
for  a long  distance  to  the  eastward.  Along  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  20 
miies  to  the  southward,  red  stripes  of  flowers  were  visible  during  the  morn- 
ing, which  we  supposed  to  be  variegated  sandstones.  We  rode  rapidly  dur- 
ing the  day,  and  in  the  afternoon  emerged  from  the  yucca  forest  at  the  foot 
of  an  outlier  of  the  Sierra  before  us,  and  came  among  the  fields  of  flowers 
we  had  seen  in  the  morning,  which  consisted  principally  of  the  rich  orange- 
colored  Californian  poppy,  mingled  with  other  flowers  of  brighter  tints. 
Reaching  the  top  of  the  spur,  which  was  covered  with  fine  bunch  grass, 
and  where  the  hills  were  very  green,  our  guide  pointed  to  a small  hollow 
in  the  mountain  before  us,  saying,  “ a es/e  piedr a hay  agua”  He  appeared 
to  know  every  nook  in  the  country.  W%<»ontinued  our  beautiful  road,  and 
reached  a spring  in  the  slope,  at  the  footof  the  ridge,  running  in  a green 
ravine,  among  granite  boulders ; here  nightshade,  and  borders  of  buck- 
wheat, with  their  white  blossoms  around  the  granite  rocks,  attracted  our 
notice  as  familiar  plants.  Several  antelopes  were  seen  among  the  hills,  and 
some  large  hares.  Men  were  sent  back  this  evening  in  search  of  a wild 
mule  with  a valuable  pack,  which  had  managed  (as  they  frequently  do)  to 
hide  itself  along  the  road. 

By  observation,  the  latitude  of  the  camp  is  34°  41'  42";  and  longitude 
118°  20'  00".  The  next  day  the  men  returned  with  the  mule. 

April  17. — Crossing  the  ridge  by  a beautiful  pass  of  hollows,  where  sev- 
eral deer  broke  out  of  the  thickets,  we  emerged  at  a small  salt  lake  in  a 
ration  lying  nearly  east  and  west,  where  a trail  from  the  mission  of  San 
Buenaventura  comes  in.  The  lake  is  about  1,200  yards  in  diameter;  sur- 
rounded on  the  margin  by  a white  salty  border,  which,  by  the  smell,  re- 
minded us  slightly  of  Lake  Abert.  There  are  some  cotton  woods,  with  willow 
and  elder,  around  the  lake;  and  the  water  is  a little  salt,  although  not  en- 
17 


258 


[ 174  ] 

tirely  unfit  for  drinking.  Here  we  turned  directly  to  the  eastward,  along 
the  trail,  which,  from  being  seldom  used,  is  almost  imperceptible ; and, 
after  travelling  a few  miles,  our  guide  halted,  and,  pointing  to  the  hardly 
visible  trail,  Uaqui  es  camino said  he,  “no  se  pierde — va  siempre He 
pointed  out  a black  butte  on  the  plain  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where 
we  would  find  water  to  encamp  at  night ; and,  giving  him  a present  of  knives 
and  scarlet  cloth,  we  shook  hands  and  parted.  He  bore  off  south,  and  in  a 
day’s  ride  would  arrive  at  San  Fernando,  one  of  several  missions  in  this 
part  of  California,  where  the  country  is  so  beautiful  that  it  is  considered  a 
paradise,  and  the  name  of  its  principal  town  ( Puebla  de  los  Angeles)  would 
make  it  angelic.  We  continued  on  through  a succession  of  valleys,  and 
came  into  a most  beautiful  spot  of  flower  fields:  instead  of  green,  tile  hills 
were  purple  and  orange,  with  unbroken  beds,  into  which  each  color  was 
separately  gathered.  A pale  straw  color,  with  a bright  yellow,  the  rich  red 
orange  of  the  poppy  mingled  with  fields  of  purple,  covered  the  spot  with  a 
floral  beauty;  and,  on  the  border  of  the  sandy  deserts,  seemed  to  invite  the 
traveller  to  go  no  farther.  Riding  along  through  the  perfumed  air,  we  soon 
after  entered  a defile  overgrown  with  the  ominous  artemisia  trident  at  a , 
which  conducted  us  into  a sandy  plain  covered  more  or  less  densely  with 
forests  of  yucca . 

Having  now  the  snowy  ridge  on  our  right,  we  continued  our  way  towards 
a dark  butte  belonging  to  a low  sierra  in  the  plain,  and  which  our  guide 
had  pointed  out  for  a landmark.  Late  in  the  day  the  familiar  growth  of 
cottonwood,  a line  of  which  was  visible  ahead,  indicated  our  approach  to 
a creek,  which  we  reached  where  the  water  spread  out.  into  sands,  and  a 
little  below  sank  entirely.  Here  our  guide  had  intended  we  should  pass 
the  night;  but  there  was  not  a blade  of  grass,  and,  hoping  to  find  nearer 
the  mountain  a little  for  the  night,  we  turned  up  the  stream.  A hundred 
yards  above,  we  found  the  creek  a fine  stream,  16  feet  wide,  with  a swift 
current.  A.  dark  night  overtook  us  when  we  reached  the  hills  at  the  foot 
of  the  ridge,  and  we  were  obliged  to  encamp  without  grass;  tying  up  what 
animals  we  could  secure  in  the  darkness,  the  greater  part  of  the  wild  ones 
having  free  range  for  the  night.  Here  the  stream  was  two  feet  deep,  swift 
and  clear,  issuing  from  a neighboring  snow  peak.  A few  miles  before 
reaching  this  creek,  we  had  crossed  a broad  dry  river  bed,  which,  nearer 
the  hills,  the  hunters  had  foumjfca  bold  and  handsome  stream. 

April  18. — Some  parties  were  engaged  in  hunting  up  the  scattered  horses, 
and  others  in  searching  for  grass  above;  both  were  successful,  and  late  in 
the  day  we  encamped  among  some  spring  heads  of  the  river,  in  a hollow 
which  was  covered  with  only  tolerably  good  grasses,  the  lower  ground 
being  entirely  overgrown  with  large  bunches  of  the  coarse  stiff  grass, 
(car ex  silchensis.) 

Our  latitude,  by  observation,  was  34°  27' 03";  and  longitude  117°  13' 00". 

Travelling  close  along  the  mountain,  we  followed  up,  in  the  afternoon 
of  the  19th,  another  stream,  in  hopes  to  find  a grass  patch  like  that  of  the 
previous  day,  but  were  deceived ; except  some  scattered  bunch  grass,  there 
was  nothing  but  rock  and  sand ; and  even  the  fertility  of  the  mountain 
seemed  withered  by  the  air  of  the  desert.  Among  the  few  trees  was  the 
siut  pine,  ( pinus  monophyllns.) 

Our  road  the  next  day  was  still  in  an  easterly  direction  along  the  ridge, 
over  very  bad  travelling  ground,  broken  and  confounded  with  crippled 
trees  and  shrubs;  and,  after  a difficult  march  of  18  miles,  a general  shout 


259 


[ 174  ] 

announced  that  we  had  struck  the  great  object  of  our  search — the  Spanish 
trail — which  here  was  running  directly  north.  The  road  itself,  and  its 
course,  were  equally  happy  discoveries  to  us.  Since  the  middle  of  Decem- 
ber we  had  continually  been  forced  south  by  mountains  and  by  deserts,  and 
now  would  have  to  make  six  degrees  of  northing,  to  regain  the  latitude  on 
which  we  wished  to  cross  the  Rocky  mountains.  The  course  of  the  road, 
therefore,  was  what  we  wanted;  and,  once  more,  we  felt  like  going  home- 
wards. A road  to  travel  on,  and  the  right  course  to  go,  were  joyful  con- 
solations to  us ; and  our  animals  enjoyed  the  beaten  track  like  ourselves. 
Relieved  from  the  rocks  and  brush,  our  wild  mules  started  off  at  a rapid  rate, 
and  in  15  miles  we  reached  a considerable  river,  timbered  with  cottonwood 
and  willow,  where  we  found  a bottom  of  tolerable  grass.  As  the  animals 
had  suffered  a great  deal  in  the  last  few  days,  rremainedhere  all  next  day, 
to  allow  them  the  necessary  repose  ; and  it  was  now  necessary,  at  every 
favorable  place,  to  make  a little  halt.  Between  us  and  the  Colorado  river  we 
were  aware  that  the  country  was  extremely  poor  in  grass,  and  scarce  for 
water,  there  being  many  jornadas^  (days’ journey,)  or  long  stretches  of  40  to 
60  miles,  without  water,  where  the  road  was  marked  by  bones  of  animals. 

Although  in  California  we  had  met  with  people  who  had  passed  over  this 
trail,  we  had  been  able  to  obtain  no  correct  information  about  it;  and  the 
greater  part  of  what  we  had  heard  was  found  to  be  only  a tissue  of  false- 
hoods. The  rivers  that  we  found  on  it  were  never  mentioned,  and  others, 
particularly  described  in  name  and  locality,  were  subsequently  seen  in  an- 
other part  of  the  country.  It  was  described  as  a tolerably  good  sandy  road, 
with  so  little  rock  as  scarcely  to  require  th£  animals  to  be  shod;  and  we 
found  it  the  roughest  and  rockiest  road  we  had  ever  seen  in  the  country; 
and  which  nearly  destroyed  our  band  of  fine  mules  and  horses.  Many  an- 
imals are  destroyed  on  it  every  year  by  a disease  called  the  foot  evil;  and 
a traveller  should  never  venture  on  it  without  having  his  animals  well  shod, 
and  also  carrying  extra  shoes. 

Latitude  34°  34'  11";  and  longitude  117°  13'  00". 

The  morning  of  the  22d  was  clear  and  bright,  and  a snowy  peak  to  the 
southward  shone  out  high  and  sharply  defined.  As  has  been  usual  since 
we  crossed  the  mountains  and  descended  into  the  hot  plains,  we  had  a gale 
of  wind.  We  travelled  down  the  right  bank  of  the  stream,  over  sands 
which  are  somewhat  loose,  and  have  no  verdure,  but  are  occupied  by  va- 
rious shurbs.  A clear  bold  stream,  60  feet  wide,  ana  several  feet  deep,  had 
a strange  appearance,  running  between  perfectly  naked  banks  of  sand.  The 
eye,  however,  is  somewhat  relieved  by  willows,  and  the  beautiful  green  of 
the  sweet  cottonwoods  with  which  it  is  well  wooded.  As  we  followed  along 
its  course,  the  river,  instead  of  growing  constantly  larger,  gradually  dwin- 
dled away,  as  it  was  absorbed  by  the  sand.  We  were  now  careful  to  take 
the  old  camping  places  of  the  annual  Santa  Fe  caravans,  which,  luckily  for 
us,  had  not  yet  made  their  yearly  passage.  A drove  of  several  thousand 
horses  and  mules  would  entirely  have  swept  away  the  scanty  grass  at  the 
watering  places,  and  we  should  have  been  obliged  to  leave  the  road  to  ob- 
tain subsistence  for  our  animals.  After  riding  20  miles  in  a northeasterly 
direction,  we  found  an  old  encampment,  where  we  halted. 

By  observation,  the  elevation  of  this  encampment  is  2,250  feet. 

April  23. — The  trail  followed  still  along  the  river,  which,  in  the  course 
of  the  morning,  entirely ‘disappeared..  We  continued  along  the  dry  bed, 
in  which,  after  an  interval  of  about  16  miles,  the  water  reappeared  in 


260 


C 174  ] 

some  low  places,  well  timbered  with  cottonwood  and  willow,  where  was 
another  of  the  customary  camping  grounds.  Here  a party  of  six  Indians 
came  into  camp,  poor  and  hungry,  and  quite  in  keeping  with  the  character 
of  the  country.  Their  arms  were  bows  of  unusual  length,  and  each  had 
a large  gourd,  strengthened  with  meshes  of  cord,  in  which  he  carried  water. 
They  proved  to  be  the  Mohahve  Indians  mentioned  by  our  recent  guide ; 
and  from  one  of  them,  who  spoke  Spanish  fluently,  I obtained  some  inter- 
esting information,  which  I would  be  glad  to  introduce  here.  An  account 
of  the  people  inhabiting  this  region  would  undoubtedly  possess  interest  for 
the  civilized  world.  Our  journey  homeward  was  fruitful  in  incident;  and 
the  country  through  which  we  travelled,  although  a desert,  afforded  much 
to  excite  the  curiosity  of  the  botanist;  but  limited  time,  and  the  rapidly  ad- 
vancing season  for  active  operations,  oblige  me  to  omit  all  extended  de- 
scriptions, and  hurry  briefly  to  the  conclusion  of  this  report. 

The  Indian  who  spoke  Spanish  had  been  educated  fora  number  of  years 
at  one  of  the  Spanish  missions,  and,  at  the  breaking  up  of  those  establish- 
ments, had  returned  to  the  mountains,  where  he  had  been  found  by  a party 
of  Mohahve  (sometimes  called  Amuchaba)  Indians,  among  whom  he  bad 
ever  since  resided. 

He  spoke  of  the  leader  of  the  present  party  as  “ mi  amo ” (my  master.) 
He  said  they  lived  upon  a large  river  in  the  southeast,  which  the  “ soldiers 
called  the  Rio  Colorado;”  but  that,  formerly,  a portion  of  them  lived  upon 
this  river,  and  among  the  mountains  which  had  bounded  the  river  valley 
to  the  northward  during  the  day,  and  that  here  along  the  river  they  had 
raised  various  kinds  of  melons.  They  sometimes  came  over  to  trade  with 
the  Indians  of  the  Sierra,  bringing  with  them  blankets  and  goods  manufac- 
tured by  the  Monquis  and  other  Colorado  Indians.  They  rarely  carried 
home  horses,  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of  getting  them  across  the  desert, 
and  of  guarding  them  afterwards  from  the  Pa-utah  Indians,  who  inhabit 
the  Sierra,  at  the  head  of  the  Rio  Virgen,  (river  of  the  Virgin.) 

He  informed  us  that,  a short  distance  below,  this  river  finally  disappear- 
ed. The  two  different  portions  in  which  water  is  found  had  received  from 
the  priests  two  different  names ; and  subsequently  I heard  it  called  by  the 
Spaniards  the  Rio  de  las  Animas , but  on  the  map  we  have  called  it  the 
Mohahve  river. 

April  24. — We  continued  down  the  stream  (or  rather  its  bed)  for  about 
eight  miles,  where  there  was  water  still  in  several  holes,  and  encamped. 
The  caravans  sometimes  continue  below,  to  the  end  of  the  river,  from  which 
there  is  a very  Ion g jornada  of  perhaps  sixty  miles,  without  water.  Here 
a singular  and  new  species  of  acacia,  with  spiral  pods  or  seed  vessels,  made 
its  first  appearance : becoming  henceforward,  for  a considerable  distance, 
a characteristic  tree.  It  was  here  comparatively  large,  being  about  20  feet 
in  height,  with  a full  and  spreading  top,  the  lower  branches  declining  to- 
wards the  ground.  It  afterwards  occurred  of  smaller  size,  frequently  in 
groves,  and  is  very  fragrant.  It  has  been  called  by  Dr.  Torrey  spirolohium 
odoratum.  The  zygophyllaceous  shrub  had  been  constantly  characteristic 
of  the  plains  along  the  river;  and  here,  among  many  new  plants,  a new 
and  very  remarkable  species  of  eriogonum  ( eriogonum  inflatum , Torr.  & 
Frem.)  made  its  first  appearance. 

Our  cattle  had  become  so  tired  and  poor  by  this  fatiguing  travelling,  that 
three  of  them  were  killed  here,  and  the  meat  dried.  The  Indians  had  now 
an  occasion  for  a great  feast,  and  were  occupied  the  remainder  of  the  day 


261 


[ 174  ] 

and  all  the  night  in  cooking  and  eating.  There  was  no  part  of  the  animal 
for  which  they  did  not  find  some  use,  except  the  bones.  In  the  afternoon 
we  were  surprised  by  the  sudden  appearance  in  the  camp  of  two  Mexi- 
cans— a man  and  a boy.  The  name  of  the  man  was  Andreas  Fuentes ; 
and  that  of  the  boy,  (a  handsome  lad,  1 1 years  old,)  Pablo  Hernandez . 
They  belonged  to  a party  consisting  of  six  persons,  the  remaining  four 
being  the  wife  of  Fuentes,  the  father  and  mother  of  Pablo,  and  Santiago 
Giacome,  a resident  of  New  Mexico.  With  a cavalcade  of  about  thirty 
horses,  they  had  come  out  from  Puebla  de  los  Angeles,  near  the  coast, 
under  the  guidance  of  Giacome,  in  advance  of  the  great  caravan,  in  order 
to  travel  more  at  leisure,  and  obtain  better  grass.  Having  advanced  as 
far  into  the  desert  as  was  considered  consistent  with  their  safety,  they  halted 
at  the  Archilette , one  of  the  customary  camping  grounds,  about  80  miles 
from  our  encampment,  where  there  is  a spring  of  good  water,  with  suffi- 
cient grass  ; and  concluded  to  await  there  the  arrival  of  the  great  caravan. 
Several  Indians  were  soon  discovered  lurking  about  the  camp,  who,  in  a 
day  or  two  after,  came  in,  and,  after  behaving  in  a very  friendly  manner, 
took  their  leave,  without  awakening  any  suspicions.  Their  deportment 
begat  a security  which  proved  fatal.  In  a few  days  afterwards,  suddenly 
a party  of  about  one  hundred  Indians  appeared  in  sight,  advancing  to- 
wards the  camp.  It  was  too  late,  or  they  seamed  not  to  have  presence  of 
mind  to  take  proper  measures  of  safety  ; and  the  Indians  charged  down  into 
their  camp,  shouting  as  they  advanced,  and  discharging  flights  of  arrows. 
Pablo  and  Fuentes  were  on  horse  guard  at  the  time,  and  mounted,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  the  country.  One  of  the  principal  objects  of  the  In- 
dians was  to  get  possession  of  the  horses,  and  part  of  them  immediately 
surrounded  the  band;  but,  in  obedience  to  the  shouts  of  Giacome,  Fuentes 
drove  the  animals  over  and  through  the  assailants,  in  spite  of  their  arrows  ; 
and,  abandoning  the  rest  to  their  fate,  carried  them  off  at  speed  across  the 
plain.  Knowing  that  they  would  be  pursued  by  the  Indians,  without 
making  any  halt  except  to  shift  their  saddles  to  other  horses,  they  drove  them 
on  for  about  sixty  miles,  and  this  morning  left  them  at  a watering  place  on 
the  trail,  called  Aguade  Tomaso.  Without  giving  themselves  any  time  for 
rest,  they  hurried  on,  hoping  to  meet  the  Spanish  caravan,  when  they  discov- 
ered my  camp.  I received  them  kindly,  taking  them  into  my  own  mess,  and 
promised  them  such  aid  as  circumstances  might  put  it  in  my  power  to  give. 

April  25. — We  left  the  river  abruptly,  and,  turning  to  the  north,  regained 
in  a few  miles  the  main  trail,  (which  had  left  the  river  sooner  than  our- 
selves,) and  continued  our  way  across  a lower  ridge  of  the  mountain, 
through  a miserable  tract  of  sand  and  gravel.  We  crossed  at  intervals  the 
broad  beds  of  dry  gullies,  where  in  the  season  of  rains  and  melting  snows 
there  would  be  brooks  or  rivulets  ; and  at  one  of  these,  where  there  was 
no  indication  of  water,  were  several  freshly-dug  holes,  in  which  there  was 
water  at  the  depth  of  two  feet.  These  holes  had  been'  dug  by  the  wolves,, 
whose  keen  sense  of  smell  had  scented  the  water  under  the  dry  sand. 
They  were  nice  little  wells,  narrow,  and  dug  straight  down,  and  we  got 
pleasant  water  out  of  them. 

The  country  had  now  assumed  the  character  of  an  elevated  and  moun- 
tainous desert ; its  general  features  being  black,  rocky  ridges,  bald,  and 
destitute  of  timber,  with  sandy  basins  between.  Where  the  sides  of  these 
ridges  are  washed  by  gullies,  the  plains  below  are  strewed  with  beds  of 
large  pebbles  or  rolled  stones,  destructive  to  our  soft-footed  animals,  accus- 


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[ 174  ] 

tomed  to  the  grassy  plains  of  the  Sacramento  valley.  Through  these 
sandy  basins  sometimes  struggled  a scanty  stream,  or  occurred  a hole  of 
water,  which  furnished  camping  grounds  for  travellers.  Frequently  in  our 
journey  across,  snow  was  visible  on  the  surrounding  mountains ; but  their 
waters  rarely  reached  the  sandy  plain  below,  where  we  toiled  along,  op- 
pressed with  thirst  and  a burning  sun.  But,  throughout  this  nakedness 
of  sand  and  gravel,  were  many  beautiful  plants  and  flowering  shrubs, 
which  occurred  in  many  new  species,  and  with  greater  variety  than  we 
had  been  accustomed  to  see  in  the  most  luxuriant  prairie  countries ; this 
was  a peculiarity  of  this  desert.  Even  where  no  grass  would  take  root, 
the  naked  sand  would  bloom  with  some  rich  and  rare  flower,  which  found 
its  appropriate  home  in  the  arid  and  barren  spot. 

Scattered  over  the  plain,  and  tolerably  abundant,  was  a handsome  legu- 
minous shrub,  three  or  four  feet  high,  with  fine  bright-purple  flowers.  It 
is  a new  psoralen,  and  occurred  frequently  henceforward  along  our  road. 

Beyond  the  first  ridge, .our  road  bore  a little  to  the  east  of  north,  to- 
wards a gap  in  a higher  line  of  mountains ; and,  after  travelling  about 
twenty-five  miles,  we  arrived  at  the  Agua  de  Tomaso — the  spring  where 
the  horses  had  been  left ; but,  as  we  expected,  they  were  gone.  A brief 
examination  of  the  ground  convinced  us  that  they  had  been  driven  off  by 
the  Indians.  Carson  and  Godey  volunteered  with  the  Mexican  to  pursue 
them ; and,  well  mounted,  the  three  set  off  on  the  trail.  At  this  stopping 
place  there  were  a few  bushes  and  very  little  grass.  Its  water  was  a pool; 
but  near  by  was  a spring,  which  had  been  dug  out  by  Indians  or  travel- 
lers. Its  water  was  cool — a great  refreshment  to  us  under  a burning  sun. 

In  the  evening  Fuentes  returned,  his  horse  having  failed ; but  Carson 
and  Godey  had  continued  the  pursuit. 

I observed  to-night  an  occultation  of  a2  Carter  i,  at  the  dark  limb  of  the 
moon,  which  gives  for  the  longitude  of  the  place  116°  23'  28";  the  lati- 
tude, by  observation,  is  35°  13'  08".  From  Helvetia  to  this  place,  the  po- 
sitions along  the  intervening  line  are  laid  down  with  the  longitudes  ob- 
tained from  the  chronometer,  which  appears  to  have  retained  its  rate  re- 
markably well ; but  henceforward,  to  the  end  of  the  journey,  the  few  lon- 
gitudes given  are  absolute,  depending  upon  a subsequent  occultation  and 
eclipses  of  the  satellites. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day,  a war-whoop  was  heard,  such  as  In- 
dians make  when  returning  from  a victorious  enterprise  ; and  soon  Carson 
and  Godey  appeared,  driving  before  them  a band  of  horses,  recognised  by 
Fuentes  to  be  part  of  those  they  had  lost.  Two  bloody  scalps,  dangling 
from  the  end  of  Godey’s  gun,  announced  that  they  had  overtaken  the  In- 
dians as  well  as  the  horses.  They  informed  us,  that  after  Fuentes  left  them, 
from  the  failure  of  his  horse,  they  continued  the  pursuit  alone,  and  towards 
nightfall  entered  the  mountains,  into  which  the  trail  led.  After  sunset  the 
moon  gave  light,  and- they  followed  the  trail  by  moonshine  until  late  in  the 
night,  when  it  entered  a narrow  defile,  and  was  difficult  to  follow.  Afraid 
of  losing  it  in  the  darkness  of  the  defile,  they  tied  up^their  horses,  struck  no 
fire,  s,nd  lay  down  to  sleep  in  silence  and  in  darkness.  Here  they  lay  from 
midnight  till  morning.  At  daylight  they  resumed  the  pursuit,  and  about 
sunrise  discovered  the  horses;  and,  immediately  dismounting  and  tying  up 
their  own,  they  crept  cautiously  to  a rising  ground  which  intervened,  from 
the  crest  of  which  they  perceived  the  encampment  of  four  lodges  close  by 
They  proceeded  quietly,  and  had  got  within  thirty  or  forty  yards  of  their  ob 


263 


[ 174  ] 

ject,  when  a movement  among  the  horses  discovered  them  to  the  Indians; 
giving  the  war  shout,  they  instantiy  charged  into  the  camp,  regardless  of  the 
number  which  the  four  lodges  would  imply.  The  Indians  received  them 
with  a flight  of  arrows  shot  from  their  long  bows,  one  of  which  passed 
through  Godey’s  shirt  collar,  barely  missing  the  neck;  our  men  fired  their 
rifles  upon  a steady  aim,  and  rushed  in.  Two  Indians  were  stretched  on 
the  ground,  fatally  pierced  with  bullets ; the  rest  fled,  except  a lad  that  was 
captured.  The  scalps  of  the  fallen  were  instantly  stripped  off;  but  in  the 
process,  one  of  them,  who  had  two  balls  through  his  body,  sprung  to  his 
feet,  the  blood  streaming  from  his  skinned  head,  and  uttering  a hideous 
howl.  An  old  squaw,  possibly  his  mother,  stopped  and  looked  back  from 
the  mountain  side  she  was  climbing,  threatening  and  lamenting.  The 
frightful  spectacle  appalled  the  stout  hearts  of  our  men  ; but  they  did  what 
humanity  required,  and  quickly  terminated  the  agonies  of  the  gory  savage. 
They  were  now  masters  of  the  camp,  which  was  a pretty  little  recess  in  the 
mountain,  with  a fine  spring,  and  apparently  safe  from  all  invasion.  Great 
preparations  had  been  made  to  feast  a large  party,  for  it  was  a very  proper 
place  for  a rendezvous,  and  for  the  celebration  of  such  orgies  as  robbers  of 
the  desert  would  delight  in.  Several  of  the  best  horses  had  been  killed, 
skinned,  and  cut  up ; for  the  Indians  living  in  mountains,  and  only  coming 
into  the  plains  to  rob  and  murder,  make  no  other  use  of  horses  than  to  eat 
them.  Large  earthen  vessels  were  on  the  fire,  boiling  and  stewing  the 
horse  beef;  and  several  baskets,  containing  fifty  or  sixty  pairs  of  moccasins, 
indicated  the  presence,  or  expectation,  of  a considerable  party.  They  released 
the  boy,  who  had  given  strong  evidence  of  the  stoicism,  or  something  else, 
of  the  savage  character,  in  commencing  his  breakfast  upon  a horse’s  head 
as  soon  as  he  found  he  was  not  to  be  killed,  but  only  tied  as  a prisoner. 
Their  object  accomplished,  our  men  gathered  up  all  the  surviving  horses, 
fifteen  in  number,  returned  upon  their  trail,  and  rejoined  us  at  our  camp  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  same  day.  They  had  rode  about  one  hundred  miles  in 
the  pursuit  and  return,  and  all  in  thirty  hours.  The  time,  place,  object, 
and  numbers,  considered,  this  expedition  of  Carson  andGodey  may  be  con- 
sidered among  the  boldest  and  most  disinterested  which  the  annals  of  western 
adventure,  so  full  of  daring  deeds,  can  present.  Two  men,  in  a savage  des- 
ert, pursue  day  and  night  an  unknown  body  of  Indians  into  the  defiles  of 
an  unknown  mountain — attack  them  on  sight,  without  counting  numbers- — 
and  defeat  them  in  an  instant — and  for  what  ? To  punish  the  robbers  of  the 
desert,  and  to  avenge  the  wrongs  of  Mexicans  whom  they  did  not  know. 
I repeat:  it  was  Carson  and  Godey  who  did  this — the  former  an  American , 
born  in  the  Boonslick  county  of  Missouri ; the  latter  a Frenchman,  born  in 
St.  Louis — and  both  trained  to  western  enterprise  from  early  life. 

By  the  information  of  Fuentes,  we  had  now  to  make  a long  stretch  of 
forty  or  fifty  miles  across  a plain  which  lay  between  us  and  the  next  possi- 
ble camp;  and  we  resumed  our  journey  late  in  the  afternoon,  with  the  in- 
tention of  travelling  through  the  night,  and  avoiding  the  excessive  heat  of 
the  day,  which  was  oppressive  to  our  animals.  For  several  hours  we  trav- 
elled across  a high  plain,  passing,  at  the  opposite  side,  through  a canon  by 
the  bed  of  a creek  running  northwardly  into  a small  lake  beyond,  and  both 
of  them  being  dry.  We  had  a warm,  moonshiny  night ; and,  travelling  di- 
rectly towards  the  north  star,  we  journeyed  now  across  an  open  plain  be- 
tween mountain  ri  ges ; that  on  the  left  being  broken,  rocky,  and  bald,  ac- 
cording to  the  information  of  Carson  and  Godey,  who  had  entered  here  in 


264 


[ 174  ] 

pursuit  of  the  horses.  The  plain  appeared  covered  principally  with  the  zygo - 
phyllum  Californicum  already  mentioned ; and  the  line  of  our  road  was 
marked  by  the  skeletons  of  horses,  which  were  strewed  to  a considerable 
breadth  over  the  plain.  We  were  afterwards  always  warned,  on  entering  one 
of  these  long  stretches,  by  the  bones  of  these  animals,  which  had  perished 
before  they  could  reach  the  water.  About  midnight  we  reached  a consider- 
able stream  bed,  now  dry,  the  discharge  of  the  waters  of  this  basin,  (when 
it  collected  any,)  down  which  we  descended  in  a northwesterly  direction. 
The  creek  bed  was  overgrown  with  shrubbery,  and  several  hours  before 
day  it  brought  us  to  the  entrance  of  a canon,  where  we  found  water,  and 
encamped.  This  word  canon  is  used  by  the  Spaniards  to  signify  a defile 
or  gorge  in  a creek  or  river,  where  high  rocks  press  in  close,  and  make  a 
narrow  way,  usually  difficult,  and  often  impossible  to  be  passed. 

In  the  morning  we  found  that  we  had  a very  poor  camping  ground:  a 
swampy,  salty  spot,  with  a little  long,  unwholesome  grass ; and  the  water, 
which  rose  in  springs,  being  useful  only  to  wet  the  mouth,  but  entirely  too 
salt  to  drink.  All  around  was  sand  and  rocks,  and  skeletons  of  horses 
which  had  not  been  able  to  find  support  for  their  lives.  As  we  were  about 
to  start,  we  found,  at  the  distance  of  a few  hundred  yards,  among  the  hills 
to  the  southward,  a spring  of  tolerably  good  water,  which  was  a relief  to 
ourselves;  but  the  place  was  too  poor  to  remain  long,  and  therefore  we 
continued  on  this  morning.  On  the  creek  were  thickets  of  spirolobium 
odoratum  (acacia)  in  bloom,  and  very  fragrant. 

Passing  through  the  canon,  we  entered  another  sandy  basin,  through 
which  the  dry  stream  bed  continued  its  northwesterly  course,  in  which  di- 
rection appeared  a high  snowy  mountain. 

We  travelled  through  a barren  district,  where  a heavy  gale  was  blowing 
about  the  loose  sand,  and,  after  a ride  of  eight  miles,  reached  a large  creek 
of  salt  and  bitter  water,  running  in  a westerly  direction,  to  receive  the  stream 
bed  we  had  left.  It  is  called  by  the  Spaniards  Amargosa — the  bitter  water 
of  the  desert.  Where  we  struck  it,  the  stream  bends;  and  we  continued  in 
a northerly  course  up  the  ravine  of  its  valley,  passing  on  the  way  a fork 
from  the  right,  near  which  occurred  a bed  of  plants,  consisting  of  a remark- 
able new  genus  of  cruciferse. 

Gradually  ascending,  the  ravine  opened  into  a green  valley,  where,  at 
the  foot  of  the  mountain,  were  springs  of  excellent  water.  We  encamped 
among  groves  of  the  new  acacia , and  there  was  an  abundance  of  good 
grass  for  the  animals. 

This  was  the  best  camping  ground  we  had  seen  since  we  struck  the 
Spanish  trail.  The  day’s  journey  was  about  12  miles. 

April  29. — To-day  we  had  to  reach  the  Archilette , distant  seven  miles, 
where  the  Mexican  party  had  been  attacked;  and,  leaving  our  encamp- 
ment early,  we  traversed  a part  of  the  desert,  the  most  sterile  and  repulsive 
that  we  had  yet  seen.  Its  prominent  features  were  dark  sierras,  naked  and 
dry ; on  the  plains  a few  straggling  shrubs — among  them,  cactus  of  several 
varieties.  Fuentes  pointed  out  one  called  by  the  Spaniards  bisnada , which 
has  a juicy  pulp,  slightly  acid,  and  is  eaten  by  the  traveller  to  allay  thirst. 
Our  course  was  generally  north;  and,  after  crossing  an  intervening  ridge, 
we  descended  into  a sandy  plain, 'or  basin,  in  the  middle  of  which  was  the 
grassy  spot,  with  its  springs  and  willow  bushes,  .which  constitutes  a camp- 
ing place  in  the  desert,  and  is  called  the  Archilette.  The  dead  silence  of 
the  place  was  ominous;  and,  galloping  rapidly  up,  we  found  only  the 


265 


[ 174  J 

corpses  of  the  two  men:  every  thing  else  was  gone.  They  were  naked, 
mutilated,  and  pierced  with  arrows.  Hernandez  had  evidently  fought,  and 
with  desperation.  He  lay  in  advance  of  the  willow  half-faced  tent,  which 
sheltered  his  family,  as  if  he  had  come  out  to  meet  danger,  and  to  repulse 
it,  from  that  asylum.  One  of  his  hands,  and  both  his  legs,  had  been  cut 
off.  Giacome,  who  was  a large  and  strong-looking  man,  was  lying  in  one 
of  the  willow  shelters,  pierced  with  arrows.  Of  the  women  no  trace  could 
be  found,  and  it  was  evident  they  had  been  carried  off  captive.  A little 
lap-dog,  which  had  belonged  to  Pablo’s  mother,  remained  with  the  dead 
bodies,  and  was  frantic  with  joy  at  seeing  Pablo  : he,  poor  child,  was  frantic 
with  grief ; and  filled  the  air  with  lamentations  for  his  father  and  mother. 
Mi  padre  ! Mi  madre  ! — was  his  incessant  cry.  When  we  beheld  this 
pitiable  sight,  and  pictured  to  ourselves  the  fate  of  the  two  women,  carried 
off  by  savages  so  brutal  and  so  loathsome,  all  compunction  for  the  scalped- 
alive  Indian  ceased  ; and  we  rejoiced  that  Carson  and  Godey  had  been  able 
to  give  sd  useful  a lesson  to  these  American  Arabs,  who  lie  in  wait  to 
murder  and  plunder  the  innocent  traveller. 

We  were  all  too  much  affected  by  the  sad  feelings  which  the  place  in- 
spired, to  remain  an  unnecesary  moment.  The  night  we  were  obliged  to 
pass  there.  Early  in  the  morning  we  left  it,  having  first  written  a brief 
account  of  what  had  happened,  and  put  it  in  the  cleft  of  a pole  planted  at  the 
spring,  that  the  approaching  caravan  might  learn  the  fate  of  their  friends. 
In  commemoration  of  the  event,  we  called  the  place  Agua  de  Hernandez — 
Hernandez’s  spring.  By  observation,  its  latitude  was  35°  51'  21". 

•April  30. — We  continued  our  journey  over  a district  similar  to  that  of 
the  day  before.  From  the  sandy  basin,  in  which  was  the  spring,  we  entered 
another  basin  of  the  same  character,  surrounded  every  where  by  moun- 
tains. Before  us  stretched  a high  range,  rising  still  higher  to  the  left,  and 
terminating  in  a snowy  mountain. 

After  a day’s  march  of  24  miles,  we  reached  at  evening  the  bed  of  a 
stream  from  which  the  water  had  disappeared ; a little  only  remained  in 
holes,  which  we  increased  by  digging;  and  about  a mile  above,  the  stream, 
not  yet  entirely  sunk,  was  spread  out  over  the  sands,  affording  a little  water 
for  the  animals.  The  stream  came  out  of  the  mountains  on  the  left,  very 
slightly  wooded  with  cottonwood,  willow,  and  acacia,  and  a few  dwarf  oaks; 
and  grass  was  nearly  as  scarce  as  water.  A plant  with  showy  yellow 
flowers  {Stanley a integrifolia)  occurred  abundantly  at  intervals  for  the 
last  two  days,  and  eriogonum  in flatum  was  among  the  characteristic  plants. 

May  1. — The  air  is  rough,  and  overcoats  pleasant.  The  sky  is  blue,  and 
the  day  bright.  Our  road  was  over  a plain,  towards  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tain; zygophyllum  Calif  or nicum,  now  in  bloom  with  a small  yellow  flower, 
is  characteristic  of  the  country  ; and  cacti  were  very  abundant,  and  in 
rich  fresh  bloom,  which  wonderfully  ornaments  this  poor  country.  We 
encamped  at  a spring  in  the  pass,  which  had  been  the  site  of  an  old  village. 
Here  we  found  excellent  grass,  but  very  little  water.  We  dug  out  the  old 
spring,  and  watered  some  of  our  animals.  The  mountain  here  was  wooded 
very  slightly  with  the  nut  pine,  cedars,  and  a dwarf  species  of  oak  ; and 
among  the  shrubs  were  Purshia  tridentala,  artemisia , and  ephedra  occi- 
dental!'s.  The  numerous  shrubs  which  constitute  the  vegetation  of  the 
plains  are  now  in  bloom,  with  flowers  of  white,  yellow,  red,  and  purple. 
The  continual  rocks,  and  want  of  water  and  grass,  begin  to  be  very  hard  on 
our  mules  and  horses ; but  the  principal  loss  is  occasioned  by  their  crippled 


266 


L ] 

feet,  the  greater  part  of  those  left  being  in  excellent  order,  and  scarcely  a 
day  passes  without  some  loss  ; and,  one  by  one,  Fuentes’s  horses  are  con- 
stantly dropping  behind.  Whenever  they  give  out,  he  dismounts  and  cuts 
of  their  tails  and  manes,  to  make  saddle  girths ; the  last  advantage  one  can 
gain  from  them. 

The  next  day,  in  a short  but  rough  ride  of  12  miles,  we  crossed  the 
mountain;  and,  descending  to  a small  valley  plain,  encamped  at  the  foot 
of  the  ridge,  on  the  bed  of  a creek,  where  we  found  good  grass  in  sufficient 
quantity,  and  abundance  of  water  in  holes.  The  ridge  is  extremely  rugged 
and  broken,  presenting  on  this  side  a continued  precipice,  and  probably 
affords  very  few  passes.  Many  digger  tracks  are  seen  around  us,  but  no 
Indians  were  visible. 

May  3. — After  a day’s  journey  of  18  miles,  in  a northeasterly  direction, 
we  encamped  in  the  midst  of  another  very  large  basin,  at  a camping  ground 
called  las  Vegas — a term  which  the  Spaniards  use  to  signify  fertile  or 
marshy  plains,  in  contradistinction  to  llanos , which  they  apply  to  Hry  and 
sterile  plains.  Two  narrow  streams  of  clear  water,  four  or  five  feet  deep, 
gush  suddenly,  with  a quick  current, from  two  singularly  large  springs; 
• these,  and  other  waters  of  the  basin,  pass  out  in  a gap  to  the  eastward. 
The  taste  of  the  water  is  good,  but  rather  too  warm  to  be  agreeable ; the 
temperature  being  71°  in  the  one,  aiid  73°  in  the  other.  They,  however, 
afforded  a delightful  bathing  place. 

May  4. — We  started  this  morning  earlier  than  usual,  travelling  in  a north- 
easterly direction  across  the  plain.  The  new  acacia  ( spirolobium  odoratum) 
has  now  become  the  characteristic  tree  of  the  country ; it  is  in  bloom,  and 
its  blossoms  are  very  fragrant.  The  day  was  still,  and  the  heat,  which 
soon  became  very  oppressive,  appeared  to  bring  out  strongly  the  refreshing 
scent  of  the  zygophyllaceous  shrubs  and  the  sweet  perfume  of  the  acacia. 
The  snowy  ridge  we  had  just  crossed  looked  out  conspicuously  in  the 
northwest.  In  about  five  hours’  ride,  we  crossed  a gap  in  the  surrounding, 
ridge,  and  the  appearance  of  skeletons  of  horses  very  soon  warned  us  that  we 
were  engaged  in  another  dr yjornada,  which  proved  the  longest  we  had 
made  in  all  our  journey — between  fifty  and  sixty  miles  without  a drop  of 
water. 

Travellers  through  countries  affording  water  and  timber  can  have  no 
conception  of  our  intolerable  thirst  while  journeying  over  the  hot  yellow 
sands  of  this  elevated  country,  where  the  heated  air  seems  to  be  entirely 
deprived  of  moisture.  We  ate  occasionally  the  bisnada,  and  moistened 
our  mouths  with  the  acid  of  the  sour  dock,  ( rumex  venosus.)  Hourly  ex- 
pecting to  find  water,  we  continued  to  press  on  until  towards  midnight, 
when,  after  a hard  and  uninterrupted  march  of  16  hours,  our  wild  mules 
began  running  ahead ; and  in  a mile  or  two  we  came  to  a bold  running 
stream — so  keen  is  the  sense 'of  that  animal,  in  these  desert  regions,  in 
scenting  at  a distance  this  necessary  of  life. 

According  to  the  information  we  had  received,  Sevier  river  was  a tribu- 
tary of  the  Colorado ; and  this,  accordingly,  should  have  been  one  of  its 
affluents.  It  proved  to  be  the  Rio  de  los  Angeles  (river  of  the  Angels) — a 
branch  of  the  Rio  Virgen  (river  of  the  Virgin.) 

May  5. — Ou  account  of  our  animals,  it  was  necessary  to  remain  to-day 
at  this  place.  Indians  crowded  numerously  around  us  in  the  morning ; 
and  we  were  obliged  to  keep  arms  in  hand  all  day,  to  keep  them  out 
of  the  camp.  They  began  to  surround  the  horses,  which,  for  the  conve- 


267 


[ 174  ] 

nience  of  grass,  we  were  guarding  a little  above,  on  the  river.  These  were 
immediately  driven  in,  and  kept  close  to  the  camp. 

In  the  darkness  of  the  night  we  had  made  a very  bad  encampment,  our 
fires  being  commanded  by  a rocky  bluff  within  50  yards ; but,  notwithstand- 
ing, we  had  the  river  and  small  thickets  of  willows  on  the  other  side.  Several 
times  during  the  day  the  camp  was  insulted  by  the  Indians ; but,  peace 
being  our  object,  I kept  simply  on  the  defensive.  Some  of  the  Indians  were 
on  the  bottoms,  and  others  haranguing  us  from  the  bluffs ; and  they  were 
scattered  in  every  direction  over  the  hills.  Their  language  being  probably 
a dialect  of  the  Utah,  with  the  aid  of  signs  some  of  our  people  could  com- 
prehend them  very  well.  They  were  the  same  people  who  had  murdered 
the  Mexicans ; and  towards  us  their  disposition  was  evidently  hostile,  nor 
were  we  well  disposed  towards  them.  They  were  barefooted,  and  nearly 
naked  ; their  hair  gathered  up  into  a knot  behind  ; and  with  his  bow,  each 
man  carried  a quiver  with  thirty  or  forty  arrows  partially  drawn  out. 
Besides  these,  each  held  in  his  hand  two  or  three  arrows  for  instant  service. 
Their  arrows  are  barbed  with  a very  clear  translucent  stone,  a species  of 
opal, nearly  as  hard  as  the  diamond;  and,  shot  from  their  long  bow, are  al- 
most as  effective  as  a gunshot.  In  these  Indians,  I was  forcibly  struck  by  an 
expression  of  countenance  resembling  that  in  a beast  of  prey  ; and  all  their 
actions  are  those  of  wild  animals.  Joined  to  the  restless  motion  of  the  eye, 
there  is  a want  of  mind — an  absence  of  thought — and  an  action  wholly  by 
impulse,  strongly  expressed,  and  which  constantly  recalls  the  similarity. 

*A  man  who  appeared  to  be  a chief,  with  two  or  three  others,  forced  him- 
self into  camp,  bringing  with  him  his  arms,  in  spite  of  my  orders  to  the 
contrary.  When  shown  our  weapons,  he  bored  his  ear  with  his  fingers,  and 
said  he  could  not  hear.  “ Why,”  said  he,  “ there  are  none  of  you.”  Count- 
ing the  people  around  the  camp,  and  including  in  the  number  a mule 
which  was  being  shod,  he  made  out  22.  “ So  many,”  said  he,  showing  the 
number,  “and  we — we  are  a great  many;”  and  he  pointed  to  the  hills  and 
mountains  round  about.  “ If  you  have  your  arms,”  said  he,  twanging  his 
bow,  “ we  have  these.”  I had  some  difficulty  in  restraining  the  ^people, 
particularly  Qarson,  who  felt  an  insult  of  this  kind  as  much  as  if  it  had 
been  given  by  a more  responsible  being.  “ Don’t  say  that,  old  man,”  said 
he  ; “don’t  you  say  that — your  life’s  in  danger” — speaking  in  good  Eng- 
lish ; and  probably  the  old  man  was  nearer  to  his  end  than  he  will  be  be- 
fore he  meets  it. 

Several  animals  had  been  necessarily  left  behind  near  the  camp  last 
night ; and  early  in  the  morning,  before  the  Indians  made  their  appearance, 
several  men  were  sent  to  bring  them  in.  When  I was  beginning  to  be  un- 
easy at  their  absence,  they  returned  with  information  that  they  had  been 
driven  off  from  the  trail  by  Indians  ; and,  having  followed  the  tracks  in  a 
short  distance,  they  found  the  animals  cut  up  and  spread  out  upon  bushes. 

In  the  evening  I gave  a fatigued  horse  to  some  of  the  Indians  for  a feast; 
and  the  village  which  carried  him  off  refused  to  share  with  the  others,  who 
made  loud  complaints  from  the  rocks  of  the  partial  distribution.  Many  of  # 
these  Indians  had  long  sticks,  hooked  at  the  end,  which  they  used  in  haul- 
ing out  lizards,  and  other  small  animals,  from  their  holes.  During  the  day 
they  occasionally  roasted  and  ate  lizards  at  our  fires.  These  belong  to  the 
people  who  are  generally  known  under  the  name  of  Diggers  ; and  to  these 
I have  more  particularly  had  reference  when  occasionally  speaking  of  a 
people  whose  sole  occupation  is  to  procure  food  sufficient  to  support  ex- 


268 


[ 174  ] 

istence.  The  formation  here  consists  of  fine  yellow  sandstone,  alternat- 
ing with  a coarse  conglomerate,  in  which  the  stones  are  from  the  size  of 
ordinary  gravel  to  six  or  eight  inches  in  diameter.  This  is  the  formation 
which  renders  the  surface  of  the  country  so  rocky,  and  gives  us  now  a road 
alternately  of  loose  heavy  sands  and  rolled  stones,  which  cripple  the  ani- 
mals in  a most  extraordinary  manner. 

On  the  following  morning  we  left  the  Rio  de  los  Angeles,  and  continued 
our  way  through  the  same  desolate  and  revolting  country,  where  lizards 
were  the  only  animal,  and  the  tracks  of  the  lizard  eaters  the  principal  sign 
of  human  beings.  After  twenty  miles5  march  through  a road  of  hills  and 
heavy  sands,  we  reached  the  most  dreary  river  I have  ever  seen — a deep 
rapid  stream,  almost  a torrent,  passing  swiftly  by,  and  roaring  against  ob- 
structions. The  banks  were  wooded  with  willow,  acacia,  and  a frequent 
plant  of  the  country  already  mentioned,  {Garry a elliptica ,)  growing  in 
thickets,  resembling  willow,  and  bearing  a small  pink  flower.  Crossing  it, 
we  encamped  on  the  left  bank,  where  we  found  a very  little  grass.  Our 
three  remaining  steers,  being  entirely  given  out,  were  killed  here.  By  the 
boiling  point,  the  elevation  of  the  river  here  is  4,060  feet ; and  latitude,  by 
* observation,  36°  41 ' 33".  The  stream  was  running  towards  the  southwest, 
and  appeared  to  come  from  a snowy  mountain  in  the  north.  It  proved  to 
be  the  Rio  Virgen — a tributary  to  the  Colorado.  Indians  appeared  in  bands 
on  the  hills,  but  did  not  come  into  camp.  For  several  days  we  continued 
our  journey  up  the  river,  the  bottoms  of  which  were  thickly  overgrown 
with  various  kinds  of  brush ; and  the  sandy  soil  was  absolutely  covered 
with  the  tracks  of  Diggers , who  followed  us  stealthily,  like  a band  of 
wolves ; and  we  had  no  opportunity  to  leave  behind,  even  for  a few  hours, 
the  tired  animals,  in  order  that  they  might  be  brought  into  camp  after  a 
little  repose.  A horse  or  mule,  left  behind,  was  taken  off  in  a moment. 
On  the  evening  of  the  8th,  having  travelled  28  miles  up  the  river  from  our 
first  encampment  on  it,  we  encamped  at  a little  grass  plat,  where  a spring 
of  cool  water  issued  from  the  bluff.  On  the  opposite  side  was  a grove  of 
cottonwoods  at  the  mouth  of  a fork,  which  here  enters  the  river.  On 
either  side  the  valley  is  bounded  by  ranges  of  mountains,  every  where  high, 
rocky,  and  broken.  The  caravan  road  was  lost  and  scattered  in  the  sandy 
country,  and  we  had  been  following  an  Indian  trail  up  the  river.  The 
hunters  the  next  day  were  sent  out  to  reconnoitre,  and  in  the  mean  time 
we  moved  about  a mile  farther  up,  where  we  found  a good  little  patch  of 
grass.  There  being  only  sufficient  grass  for  the  night,  the  horses  were 
sent  with  a strong  guard  in  charge  of  Tabeau  to  a neighboring  hollow, 
where  they  might  pasture  during  the  day  ; and,  to  be  ready  in  case  the  In- 
dians should  make  any  attempt  on  the  animals,  several  of  the  best  horses 
were  picketed  at  the  camp.  In  a few  hours  the  hunters  returned,  having 
found  a convenient  ford  in  the  river,  and  discovered  the  Spanish  trail  on 
the  other  side. 

I had  been  engaged  in  arranging  plants  ; and,  fatigued  with  the  heat  of 
the  day,  I fell  asleep  in  the  afternoon,  and  did  not  awake  until  sundown. 
‘Presently-  Carson  came  to  me,  and  reported  that  Tabeau,  who  early  in  the 
day  had  left  his  post,  and,  without  my  knowledge,  rode  back  to  the  camp 
we  had  left,  in  search  of  a lame  mule,  had  not  returned.  While  we  were 
speaking,  a smoke  rose  suddenly  from  the  cottonwood  grove  below,  which 
plainly  told  us  what  had  befallen  him ; it  was  raised  to  inform  the  sur- 
rounding Indians  that  a blow  had  been  struck,  and  to  tell  them  to  be  on 


269 


• [ 174  ] 

their  guard.  Carson,  with  several  men  well  mounted,  was  instantly  sent 
down  the  river,  but  returned  in  the  night  without  tidings  of  the  missing 
man.  They  went  to  the  camp  we  had  left,  but  neither  he  nor  the  mule 
was  there.  Searching  down  the  river,  they  found  the  tracks  of  the  mule, 
evidently  driven  along  by  Indians,  whose  tracks  were  on  each  side  of  those 
made  by  the  animal.  After  going  several  miles,  they  came  to  the  mule  it- 
self, standing  in  some  bushes,  mortally  wounded  in  the  side  by  an  arrow, 
and  left  to  die,  that  it  might  be  afterwards  butchered  for  food.  They  also 
found,  in  another  place,  as  they  were  hunting  about  on  the  ground  forTa- 
beau’s  tracks,  something  that  looked  like  a little  puddle  of  blood,  but  which 
the  darkness  prevented  them  from  verifying.  With  these  details  they  re- 
turned to  our  camp,  and  their  report  saddened  all  our  hearts. 

May  10. — This  morning,  as  soon  as  there  was  light  enough  to  follow 
tracks,  I set  out  myself,  with  Mr.  Fitzpatrick  and  several  men,  in  search  of 
Tabeau.  We  went  to  the  spot  where  the  appearance  of  puddled  blood  had 
been  seen ; and  this,  we  saw  at  once,  had  been  the  place  where  he  fell  and 
died.  Blood  upon  the  leaves,  and  beaten  down  bushes, showed  that  he  had 
got  nis  wound  about  twenty  paces  from  where  he  fell,  and  that  he  had  strug- 
gled for  his  life.  He  had  probably  been  shot  through  the  lungs  with  an 
arrow.  From  the  place  where  he  lay  and  bled,  it  could  be  seen  that  he  had 
been  dragged  to  the  river  bank,  and  thrown  into  it.  No  vestige  of  what 
had  belonged  to  him  could  be  found,  except  a fragment  of  his  horse  equip- 
ment. Horse,  gun,  clothes — all  became  the  prey  of  these  Arabs  of  the  New 
World. 

Tabeau  had  been  one  of  our  best  men,  and  his  unhappy  death  spread  a 
gloom  over  our  party.  Men,  who  have  gone  through  such  dangers  and 
sufferings  as  we  had  seen,  become  like  brothers,  and  feel  each  other’s  loss. 
To  defend  and  avenge  each  other*  is  the  deep  feeling  of  all.  We  wished 
to  avenge  his  death;  but  the  condition  of  our  horses,  languishing  for  grass 
and  repose,  forbade  an  expedition  into  unknown  mountains.  We  knew  the 
tribe  who  had  done  the  mischief — the  same  which  had  been  insulting  our 
camp.  They  knew  what  they  deserved,  and  had  the  discretion  to  show 
themselves  to  us  no  more.  The  day  before,  they  infested  our  camp:  now, 
not  one  appeared  ; nor  did  we  ever  afterwards  see  but  one  who  even  be- 
longed to  the  same  tribe,  and  he  at  a distance. 

Our  camp  was  in  a basin  below  a deep  canon — a gap  of  two  thousand 
feet  deep  in  the  mountain — through  which  the  Rio  Virgen  passes,  and 
where  no  man  or  beast  could  follow  it.  The  Spanish  trail,  which  we  had 
lost  in  the  sands  of  the  basin,  was  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  We 
crossed  over  to  it,  and  followed  it  northwardly  towards  a gap  which  was 
visible  in  the  mountain.  We  approached  it  by  a defile,  rendered  difficult 
for  our  barefooted  animals  by  the  rocks  strewed  along  it ; and  here  the 
country  changed  its  character.  From  the  time  we  entered  the  desert,  the 
mountains  had  been  bald  and  rocky;  here  they  began  to  be  wooded  with 
cedar  and  pine,  and  clusters  of  trees  gave  shelter  to  birds — a new  and  wel- 
come sight — which  could  not  have  lived  in  the  desert  v/e  had  passed. 

Descending  along  hollow, towards  the  narrow  valley a stream,  we  saw 
before  us  a snowy  mountain,  far  beyond  which  appearedanother  more  lofty 
still.  Good  bunch  grass  began  to  appear  on  the  hill  sides,  and  here  we  found 
a singular  variety  of  interesting  shrubs.  The  changed  appearance  of  the 
country  infused  amoqg  our  people  a more  lively  spirit,  which  was  heightened 


270 


[ 174  ] * 

by  finding  at  evening  a halting  place  of  very  good  grass  on  the  clear  waters 
of  the  Santa  Clara  fork  of  the  Bio  Virgen. 

■ May  11. — The.  morning  was  cloudy  and  quite  cool,  with  a shower  of 
rain — the  first  we  have  had  since  entering  the  desert,  a period  of  twenty- 
seven  days ; and  we  seem  to  have  entered  a different  climate,  with  the  usual 
weather  of  the  Rocky  mountains.  Our  march  to-day  was  very  laborious, 
over  very  broken  ground,  along  the  Santa  Clara  river ; but  then  the  coun- 
try is  no  longer  so  distressingly  desolate.  The  stream  is  prettily  wooded 
with  sweet  cottonwood  trees — some  of  them  of  large  size ; and  on  the  hills, 
where  the  nut  pine  is  often  seen,  a good  and  wholesome  grass  occurs  fre- 
quently. This  cottonwood,  which  is  now  in  fruit,  is  of  a different  species 
from  any  in  Michaux’s  Syiva.  Heavy  dark  clouds  covered  the  sky  in  the 
evening,  and  a cold  wind  sprang  up,  making  fires  and  overcoats  comforta- 
ble. 

May  12. — A little  above  our  encampment,  the  river  forked  ; and  we  con- 
tinued up  the  right  hand  branch,  gradually  ascending  towards  the  summit 
of  the  mountain.  As  we  rose  towards  the  head  of  the  creek,  the^iowy 
mountain  on  our  right  showed  out  handsomely — high  and  ruggeu  with 
precipices,  and  covered  with  snow  for  about  two  thousand  feet  from  their 
summits  down.  Our  animals  were  somewhat  repaid  for  their  hard  marches 
by  an  excellent  camping  ground  on  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  which  forms 
here  the  dividing  chain  between  the  waters  of  the  Rio  Virgen , which  goes 
south  to  the  Colorado,  and  those  of  Sevier  river,  flowing  northwardly,  and 
belonging  to  the  Great  Basin.  We  considered  ourselves  as  crossing  the 
rim  of  the  basin;  and,  entering  it  at  this  point,  we  found  here  an  exten- 
sive mountain  meadow,  rich  in  bunch  grass,  and  fresh  with  numerous 
springs  of  clear  water,  all  refreshing  and  delightful  to  look  upon.  It  was, 
in  fact,  that  las  Vegas  de  Santa  Clara , which  had  been  so  long  presented  to 
us  as  the  terminating  point  of  the  desert,  and  where  the  annual  caravan 
from  California  to  New  Mexico  halted  and  recruited  for  some  weeks.  It 
was  a very  suitable  place  to  recover  from  the  fatigue  and  exhaustion  of  a 
month’s  suffering  in  the  hot  and  sterile  desert.  The  meadow  was  about  a 
mile  wide,  and  some  ten  miles  long,  bordered  by  grassy  hills  and  moun- 
tains— some  of  the  latter  rising  two  thousand  feet,  and  white  with  snow 
down  to  the  level  of  the  vegas.  Its  elevation  above  the  sea  was  5,280  feet; 
’latitude,  by  observation,  37°  28'  28"  ; and  its  distance  from  where  we  first 
struck  the  Spanish  trail  about  four  hundred  miles.  Counting  from  the  time 
we  reached  the  desert,  and  began  to  skirt,  at  our  descent  from  Walker’s 
Pass  in  the  Sierra  Nevada,  we  had  travelled  550  miles,  occupying  twen- 
ty-seven days,  in  that  inhospitable  region.  In  passing  before  the  great 
caravan,  we  had  the  advantage  of  finding  more  grass,  but  the  disadvantage 
of  finding  also  the  marauding  savages,  who  had  gathered  down  upon  the 
trail,  waiting  the  approach  of  that  prey.  This  greatly  increased  our  labors, 
besides  costing  us  the  life  of  an  excellent  man.  We  had  to  move  ail  day  in 
a state  of  watch,  and  prepared  for  combat — scouts  and  flankers  out,  a front 
and  rear  division  of  our  men,  and  baggage  animals  in  the  centre.  At  night, 
camp  duty  was^evere.  Those  who  had  toiled  all  day,  had  to  guard,  by 
turns,  the  camp  and  the  horses  all  night.  Frequently  one-third  of  the  whole 
party  were  on  guard  at  once  ; and  nothing  but  this  vigilance  saved  us  from 
attack.  We  were  constantly  dogged  by  bands, and  even  whole  tribes  of  the 
marauders  ; and  although  Tabeau  was  killed,  and  our  camp  infested  and  in- 
sulted by  some,  while  swarms  of  them  remained  on  the  hills  and  mountain 


271 


# 


[ 174  ] 

sides,  there  was  manifestly  a consultation  and  calculation  going  on,  to  decide 
the  question  of  attacking  us.  Having  reached  the  resting  place  of  the  Ve- 
gas de  Santa  Clara , we  had  complete  relief  from  the'heat  and  privations 
of  the  desert,  and  some  relaxation  from  the  severity  of  camp  duty.  Some 
relaxation,  and  relaxation  only — for  camp  guards,  horse  guards,  and  scouts, 
are  indispensable  from  the  time  of  leaving  the  frontiers  of  Missouri  until 
we  return  to  them. 

After  we  left  the  Vegas , we  had  the  gratification  to  be  joined  by  the  fa- 
mous hunter  and  trapper,  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  whom  I have  before  men- 
tioned, and  who  now  became  our  guide.  He  had  left  California  with  the 
great  caravan;  and  perceiving,  from  the  signs  along  the  trail,  that  there 
was  a party  of  whites  ahead,  which  he  judged  to  be  mine,  he  detached  him- 
self from  the  caravan,  with  eight  men,  (Americans,)  and  ran  the  gauntlet  of 
the  desert  robbers,  killing  two,  and  getting  some  of  the  horses  wounded, 
and  succeeded  in  overtaking  us.  Nothing  but  his  great  knowledge  of  the 
country,  great  courage  and  presence  of  mind,  and  good  rifles,  could  have 
brought  him  safe  from  such  a perilous  enterprise. 

May  13. — We  remained  one  day  at  this  noted  place  of  rest  and  refresh- 
ment; and,  resuming  our  progress  in  a northeastwardly  direction,  we  de- 
scended into  a broad  valley,  the  water  of  which  is  tributary  to  Sevier  lake. 
The  next  day  we  came  in  sight  of  the  Wah-satch  range  of  mountains  on 
the  right,  white  with  snow,  and  here  forming  the  southeast  part  of  the  Great 
4 Basin.  Sevier  lake,  upon  the  waters  of* which  we  now  were,  belonged  to 
the  system  of  lakes  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  Basin — of  which,  the  Great 
Salt  lake,  and  its  southern  limb,  the  Utah  lake,  were  the  principal — to- 
wards the  region  of  which  we  were  now  approaching.  We  travelled  for 
several  days  in  this  direction,  within  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin,  crossing 
little  streams  which  bore  to  the  left  for  Sevier  lake ; and  plainly  seeing,  by 
the  changed  aspect  of  the  country,  that  we  were  entirely  clear  of.  the 
desert,  and  approaching  the  regions  which  appertained  to  the  system  of  the 
Rocky  mountains.  We  met,  in  this  traverse,  a few  mounted  Utah  Indians, 
in  advance  of  their  main  body,  watching  the  approach  of  the  great  caravan. 

May  16. — We  reached  a small  salt  lake,  about  seven  miles  long  and  one 
broad,  at  the  northern  extremity  of  which  we  encamped  for  the  night.  This 
little  lake,  which  well  merits  its  characteristic  name,  lies  immediately  at 
the  base  of  the  Wah-satch  range,  and  nearly  opposite  a gap  in  that  chain 
of  mountains  through  which  the  Spanish  trail  passes;  and  which,  again 
falling  upon  the  waters  of  the  Colorado,  and  crossing  that  river,  proceeds 
over  a mountainous  country  to  Santa  Fe. 

May  17. — After  440  miles  of  travelling  on  a trail,  which  served  for  a 
road,  we  again  found  ourselves  under  the  necessity  of  exploring  a track 
through  the  wilderness.  The  Spanish  trail  had  borne  off  to  the  southeast, 
crossing  the  Wah-satch  range.  Our  course  led  to  the  northeast,  along  the 
foot  of  that  range,  and  leaving  it  on  the  right.  The  mountain  present- 
ed itself  to  us  under  the  form  of  several  ridges,  rising  one  above  the  other, 
rocky,  and  wooded  with  pine  and  cedar;  the  last  ridge  covered  with  snow. 
Sevier  river,  flowing  northwardly  to  the  lake  of  the  sape  name,  collects  its 
principal  waters  from  this  section  of  the  Wah-satch  cnain.  We  had  now 
entered  a region  of  great  pastoral  promise,  abounding  with  fine  streams, 
the  rich  bunch  grass,  soil  that  would  produce  wheat,  and  indigenous  flax 
growing  as  if  it  had  been  sown.  Consistent  wjgjvthe  general  character  of 
its  bordering  mountains,  this  fertility  of  soil  and  vegetation  does  not  extend 


272 


C 174  ] 

far  into  the  Great  Basin.  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  our  guide,  and  who  has 
more  knowledge  of  these  parts  than  any  man  I know,  informed  me  that  all 
the  country  to  the  left  was  unknown  to  him,  and  that  even  the  Digger 
tribes,  which  frequented  Lake  Sevier,  could  tell  him  nothing  about  it. 

May  20. — We  met  a band  of  Utah  Indians,  headed  by  a well-known 
chief,  who  had  obtained  the  American  or  English  name  of  Walker,  by 
which  he  is  quoted  and  well  known.  They  were  all  mounted, armed  with 
rifles,  and  use  their  rifles  well.  The  chief  had  a fusee,  which  he  had  car- 
ried slung,  in  addition  to  his  rifle.  They  were  journeying  slowly  towards 
the  Spanish  trail,  to  levy  their  usual  tribute  upon  the  great  Californian  cara- 
van. They  were  robbers  of  a higher  order  than  those  of  the  desert.  They 
conducted  their  depredations  with  form,  and  under  the  color  of  trade  and 
toll  for  passing  through  their  country.  Instead  of  attacking  and  killing,  they 
affect  to  purchase — taking  the  horses  they  like,  and  giving  something  nomi- 
nal in  return.  The  chief  was  quite  civil  to  me.  He  was  personally  ac- 
quainted with  his  namesake,  our  guide,  who  made  my  name  known  to  him. 

He  knew  of  my  expedition  of  1842;  and,  as  tokons  of  friendship! Hand 
proof  that  we  had  met,  proposed  an  interchange  of  presents.  We  had  no 
great  store  to  choose  out  of ; so  he  gave  me  a Mexican  blanket,  and  I gave 
him  a very  fine  one  which  I had  obtained  at  Vancouver. 

May  23. — We  reached  Sevier  river — the  main  tributary  of  the  lake  of 
the  same  name — which,  deflecting  from  its  northern  course,  here  breaks 
from  the  mountains  to  enter  the*  lake.  It  was  really  a fine  river,  from  eight 
to  twelve  feet  deep ; and,  after  searching  in  vain  for  a fordable  place,  we 
made  little  boats  (or,  rather,  rafts)  out  of  bulrushes,  and  ferried  across. 
These  rafts  are  readily  made,  and  give  a good  conveyance  across  a river. 
The  rushes  are  bound  in  bundles,  and  tied  hard  ; the  bundles  are  tied  down 
upon  poles,  as  close  as  they  can  be  pressed,  and  fashioned  like  a boat,  in  being 
broader  in  the  middle  and  pointed  at  the  ends.  The  rushes,  being  tubular 
and  jointed,  are  light  and  strong.  The  raft  swims  well,  and  is  shoved  along 
by  poles,  or  paddled,  or  pushed  and  pulled  by  swimmers,  or  drawn  by  ropes. 

On  this  occasion,  we  used  ropes — one  at  each  end — and  rapidly  drew  our 
little  float  backwards  and  forwards,  from  shore  to  shore.  The  horses  swam.  • 
At  our  place  of  crossing,  which  was  the  most  northern  point  of  its  bend,  the 
latitude  was  39°  22'  19".  The  banks  sustained  the  character  for  fertility 
and  vegetation  which  we  had  seen  for  some  days.  The  name  of  this  river 
and  lake  was  an  indication  of  our  approach  to  regions  of  which  our  people 
had  been  the  explorers.  It  was  probably  named  after  some  American  trap- 
per or  hunter,  and  was  the  first  American  name  we  had  met  with  since 
leaving  the  Columbia  river.  From  the  Dalles  to  the  point  where  we  turn- 
ed across  the  Sierra  Nevada,  near  1,000  miles,  we  heard  Indian  names, 
and  the  greater  part  of  the  distance  none:  from  Nueva  Helvetia  (Sacra- 
mento) {Ojas  Vegas  de  Santa  Clara , about  1,000  more,  ail  were  Spanish; 
from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific,  French  and  American  or  English  were  1 
intermixed  ; and  this  prevalence  of  names  indicates  the  national  character 
of  the  first  explorers. 

We  had  here^ie  misfortune  to  lose  one  of  our  people,  Francois  Badeau, 
who  had  been  with  me  in  both  expeditions;  during  which  he  had  always 
been  one  of  my  most  faithful  and  efficient  men.  He  was  killed  in  drawing 
towards  him  a gun  by  the  muzzle ; the  hammer  being  caught,  discharged 
the  gun,  driving  the  ba 41  through  his  head.  We  hurried  him  on  the  banks 
of  the  river. 


273 


[ 174  J 

Crossing  the  next  day  a slight  ridge  along  the  river,  we  entered  a hand- 
some mountain  valley  covered  with  fine  grass,  and  directed  our  course  to 

wards  a high  snowy  peak,  at  the  foot  of  which  lay  the  Utah  lake.  On 
our  right  was  a bed  of  high  mountains,  their  summits  covered  with  snow, 
constituting  the  dividing  ridge  between  the  Basin  waters  and  those  of  the 
Colorado.  At  noon  we  fell  in  with  a party  of  Utah  Indians  coming  out 
of  the  mountain,  and  in  the  afternoon  encamped  on  a tributary  to  the  lake, 
which  is  separated  from  the  waters  of  the  Sevier  by  very  slight  dividing 
grounds. 

Early  the  next  day  we  came  in  sight  of  the  lake ; and,  as  we  descended 
to  the  broad  bottoms  of  the  Spanish  fork,  three  horsemen  were  seen  gallop- 
ing towards  us,  who  proved  to  be  Utah  Indians — scouts  from  a village,, 
which  was  encamped  near  the  mouth  of  the  river.  They  were  aimed 
with  rifles,  and  their  horses  were  in  good  condition.  We  encamped  near 
them,  on  the  Spanish  fork,  which  is  one  of  the  principal  tributaries  to  the 
lake.  Finding  the  Indians  troublesome,  and  desirous  to  remain  here  a day, 
we  removed  the  next  morning  farther  down  the  lake,  and  encamped  on  a 
fertile  bottom  near  the  foot  of  the  same  mountainous  ridge  which  borders 
the  Great  Salt  lake,  and  along  which  we  had  journeyed  the  previous  Sep- 
tember. Here  the  principal  plants  in  bloom  were  two,  which  were  re- 
markable as  affording  to  the  Snake  Indians — the  one  an  abundant  supply 
of  food,  and  the  other  the  most  useful  among  the  applications  which  they 
use  for  wounds.  These  were  the  kooyah  plant,  growing  in  fields  of  ex- 
traordinary luxuriance,  and  convollaria  stellata , which,  from  the  expe- 
rience of  Mr.  Walker,  is  the  best  remedial  plant  known  among  those  In- 
dians. A few  miles  below  us  was  another  village  of  Indians,  from  which 
we  obtained  some  fish — among  them  a few  salmon  trout,  which  were  very 
much  inferior  in  size  to  those  along  the  Californian  mountains.  The  sea- 
son for  taking  them  had  not  yet  arrived  ; but  the  Indians  were  daily  ex- 
pecting them  to  come  up  out  of  the  lake. 

We  had  now  accomplished  an  object  we  had  in  view  when  leaving  the 
Dalles  of  the  Columbia  in  November  last : we  had  reached  the  Utah  lake; 
but  by  a route  very  different  from  what  we  had  intended,  and  without  suf- 
ficient time  remaining  to  make  the  examinations  which  were  desired.  It? 
is  a lake  of  note  in  this  country,  under  the  dominion  of  the  Utahs,  who 
resort  to  it  for  fish.  Its  greatest  breadth  is  about  15  miles,  stretching  far 
to  the  north,  narrowing  as  it  goes,  and  connecting  with  the  Great  Salt  lake. 
This  is  the  report,  and  which  I believe  to  be  correct ; but  it  is  fresh  water, 
while  the  other  is  not  only  salt,  but  a saturated  solution  of  salt ; and  here 
is  a problem  which  requires  to  be  solved.  It  is  almost  entirely  surrounded5 
by  mountains,  walled  on  the  north  and  east  by  a high  and  snowy  range, 
which  supplies  to  it  a fan  of  tributary  streams.  Among  these,  the  principal 
river  is  the  Timpctn-ogo — signifying  Rock  river — a name  which  the  rocky 
grandeur  of  its  scenery,  remarkable  even  in  this  country  of  rugged  moun- 
tains, has  obtained  for  it  from  the  Indians.  In  the  Utah  language,  og-w&k - 
6et  the  term  for  river,  when  coupled  with  other  words  in  common  convert 
sation,  is  usually  abbreviated  to  ogo  ; timpan  signifying  rock.  It  is  probaft' 
that  this  river  furnished  the  name  which  on  the  older  maps  has  been  gene- 
rally applied  to  the  Great  Salt  lake ; but  for  this  I have  preferred  a name 
which  will  be  regarded  as  highly  characteristic,  restricting  to  th 6 river  the 
descriptive  term  Timpan-ogo,  and  leaving  for  the  lake  into  which  it  flowa 
18 


274 


[ 174  ] 

the  name  of  the  people  who  reside  on  ils  shores,  and  by  which  it  isknowu 
throughout  the  country. 

The  volume  of  water  afforded  by  the  Timpan-ogo  is  probably  equal  to 
that  of  the  Sevier  river;  and,  at  the  time  of  our  visit,  there  was  only  one 
place  in  the  lake  valley  at  which  the  Spanish  fork  was  fordable.  In  the 
cove  of  mountains  along  its  eastern  shore,  the  lake  is  bordered  by  a plain, 
where  the  soil  is  generally  good,  and  in  greater  part  fertile ; watered  by  a 
delta  of  prettily  timbered  streams.  This  would  be  an  excellent  locality 
for  stock  farms  ; it  is  generally  covered  with  good  bunch  grass,  and  would 
abundantly  produce  the  ordinary  grains. 

In  arriving  at  the  Utah  lake,  we  had  completed  an  immense  circuit  of 
twelve  degrees  diameter  north  and  south,  and  ten  degrees  east  and  west; 
and  found  ourselves,  in  May,  1844,  on  the  same  sheet  of  water  which  we 
had  left  in  September,  1843.  The  Utah  is  the  southern  limb  of  the  Great 
Salt  lake  ; and  thus  we  had  seen  that  remarkable  sheet  of  water  both  at  its 
northern  and  southern  extremity,  and  were  able  to  fix  its  position  at  these 
two  points.  The  circuit  which  we  had  made,  and  which  had  cost  us  eight 
months  of  time,  and  3,500  miles  of  travelling,  had  given  us  a view  of 
Oregon  and  of  North  California  from  the  Rocky  mountains  to  the  Pacific 
ocean,  and  of  the  two  principal  streams  which  form  bays  or  harbors  on  the 
coast  of  that  sea.  Having  completed  this  circuit,  and  being  now  about  to 
turn  the  back  upon  the  Pacific  slope  of  our  continent,  and  to  recross  the 
Rocky  mountains,  it  is  natural  to  look  back  upon  our  footsteps,  and  take 
some  brief  view  of  the  leading  features  and  general  structure  of  the  coun- 
try we  had  traversed.  These  are  peculiar  and  striking,  and  differ  essentially 
from  the  Atlantic  side  of  our  country.  The  mountains  all  are  higher, more 
numerous,  and  more  distinctly  defined  in  their  ranges  and  directions;  and, 
what  is  so  contrary  to  the  natural  order  of  such  formations,  one  of  these 
ranges,  which  is  near  the  coast,  (the  Sierra  Nevada  and  the  Coast  Range,) 
presents  higher  elevations  and  peaks  than  any  which  are  to  be  found  in  the 
Rocky  mountains  themselves.  I n our  eight  months’  circuit,  we  were  never 
out  of  sight  of  snow ; and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  we  crossed  it,  was 
near  2,000  feet  higher  than  the  South  Pass  in  the  Rocky  mountains.  In 
height,  these  mountains  greatly  exceed  those  of  the  Atlantic  side,  con- 
stantly presenting  peaks  which  enter  the  region  of  eternal  snow  ; and  some 
of  them  volcanic,  and  in  a frequent  state  of  activity.  They  are  seen  at 
great  distances,  and  guide  the  traveller  in  his  courses. 

The  course  and  elevation  of  these  ranges  give  direction  to  the  rivers  and 
character  to  the  coast.  No  great  river  does,  or  can,  take  its  rise  below  the 
Cascade  and  Sierra  Nevada  range ; the  distance  to  the  sea  is  too  short  to 
admit  of  it.  The  rivers  of  the  San  Francisco  bay,  which  are  the  largest 
after  the  Columbia,  are  local  to  that  bay,  and  lateral  to  the  coast,  having 
their  sources  about  on  a line  with  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia,  and  running 
each  in  a valley  of  its  own,  between  Coast  range  and  the  Cascade  and  Sierra 
Nevada  range.  The  Columbia  is  the  only  river  which  traverses  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  country,  breaking  through  all  the  ranges,  and  entering  the 
sea.  Drawing  its  waters  from  a section  of  ten  degrees  of  latitude  in  the 
Rocky  mountains,  which  are  collected  into  one  stream  by  three  main  forks 
(Lewis’s,  Clark’s,  and  the  North  fork)  near  the  centre  of  the  Oregon  valley, 
this  great  river  thence  proceeds  by  a single  channel  to  the  sea,  while  its 
three  forks  lead  each  to  a pass  in  the  mountains,  which  opens  the  way  into 


2?5 


[ 174  ] 

the  interior  of  the  continent.  This  fact  in  relation  to  the  rivers  of  this 
region  gives  an  immense  value  to  the  Columbia.  Its  mouth  is  the  only 
inlet  and  outlet  to  and  from  the  sea  ; its  three  forks  lead  to  the  passes  in 
the  mountains ; it  is  therefore  the  only  line  of  communication  between  the 
Pacific  and  the  interior  of  North  America ; and  all  operations  of  war  or 
commerce,  of  national  or  social  intercourse,  must  be  conducted  upon  it-. 
This  gives  it  a value  beyond  estimation,  and  would  involve  irreparable 
injury  if  lost.  In  this  unity  and  concentration  of  its  waters,  the  Pacific 
side  of  our  continent  differs  entirely  from  the  Atlantic  side,  where  the 
waters  of  the  Allegany  mountains  are  dispersed  into  many  rivers,  having 
their  different  entrances  into  the  sea,  and  opening  many  lines  of  communi- 
cation with  the  interior. 

The  Pacific  coast  is  equally  different  from  that  of  the  Atlantic.  The 
coast  of  the  Atlantic  is  low  and  open,  indented  with  numerous  bays*, 
sounds,  and  river  estuaries,  accessible  every  where,  and  opening  by  many 
channels  into  the  heart  of  the  country.  The  Pacific  coast,  on  the  con- 
trary, is  high  and  compact,  with  few  bays,  and  but  one  that  opens  into 
the  heart  of  the  country.  The  immediate  coast  is  what  the  seamen  call 
iron  bound.  A little  within,  it  is  skirted  by  two  successive  ranges  of  moun- 
tains, standing  as  ramparts  between  the  sea  and  the  interior  country ; and. 
to  get  through  which,  there  is  but  one  gate,  and  that  narrow  and  easily  de- 
fended. This  structure  of  the  coast,  backed  by  these  two  ranges  of  moun- 
tains, wiih  its  concentration  and  unity  of  waters,  gives  to  the  country  an 
immense  military  strength,  and  will  probably  render  Oregon  the  most  im- 
pregnable country  in  the  world. 

Differing  so  much  from  the  Atlantic  side  of  our  continent,  in  coast,, 
mountains,  and  rivers,  the  Pacific  side  differs  from  it  in  another  most  rare 
and  singular  feature — that  of  the  Great  interior  Basin,  of  which  I have  s<r 
often  spoken,  and  the  whole  form  and  character  of  which  I was  so  anxious 
to  ascertain.  Its  existence  is  vouched  for  by  such  of  the  American  traders 
and  hunters  as  have  some  knowledge  of  that  region ; the  structure  of  the 
Sierra  Nevada  range  of  mountains  requires  it  to  be  there;  and  my  own 
observations  confirm  it.  Mr.  Joseph  Walker,  who  is  so  well  acquainted  in 
those  parts,  informed  me  that,  from  the  Great  Salt  lake  west,  there  was  a 
succession  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  have  no  outlet  to  the  sea,  nor  any 
connexion  with  the  Columbia,  or  with  the  Colorado  of  the  Gulf  of  Cali- 
fornia. He  described  some  of  these  lakes  as  being  large,  with  numerous 
streams,  and  even  considerable  rivers,  falling  into  them.  In  fact,  all  concur 
in  the  general  report  of  these  interior  rivers  and  lakes;  and,  for  want  of 
understanding  the  force  and  power  of  evaporation,  which  so  soon  estab- 
lishes an  equilibrium  between  the  loss  and  supply  of  waters,  the  fable  of 
whirlpools  and  subterraneous  outlets  has  gained  belief,  as  the  only  imagi- 
nable way  of  carrying  off  the  waters  which  have  no  visible  discharge.. 
The  structure  of  the  country  would  require  this  formation  of  interior  lakes; 
for  the  waters  which  would  collect  between  the  Rocky  mountains  and  the 
Sierra  Nevada,  not  being  able  to  cross  this  formidable  barrier,  nor  to  get  to 
the  Columbia  or  the  Colorado,  must  naturally  collect  into  reservoirs,  each 
of  which  would  have  its  little  system  of  streams  and  rivers  to  supply  it. 
This  would  be  the  natural  effect ; and  what  I saw  went  to  confirm  it.  The 
Great  Salt  lake  is  a formation  of  this  kind,  and  quite  a large  one;  and  having 
many  streams,  and  one  considerable  river,  four  or  five  hundred  miles  long, 
falling  into  it.  This  lake  and  river  I saw  and  examined  myself;  and  also  saw 


•276 


[ 174  ] 

the  Wah-satch  and  Bear  River  mountains  which  enclose  the  waters  of  the 
lake  on  the  east,  and  constitute,  in  that  quarter,  the  rim  of  the  Great  Basin. 
Afterwards,  along  the  eastern  base  of  the  Sierra  Nevada,  where  we  trav- 
elled for  forty-two  days,  I saw  the  line  of  lakes  and  rivers  which  lie  at  the 
foot  of  that  Sierra;  and  which  Sierra  is  the  western  rim  of  the  Basin.  In 
going  down  Lewis’s  fork  and  the  main  Columbia,  I crossed  only  inferior 
streams  coming  in  from  the  left,  such  as  could  draw  their  water  from  a 
short  distance  only;  and  I often  saw  the  mountains  at  their  heads,  white 
with  snow;  which,  all  accounts  said,  divided  the  waters  of  the  desert  from 
those  of  the  Columbia,  and  which  could  be  no  other  than  the  range  of 
mountains  which  form  the  rim  ot  the  Basin  on  its  northern  side.  And  in 
returning  from  California  along  the  Spanish  trail,  as  far  as  the  head  of  the 
Santa  Clara  fork  of  the  Rio  Virgen,  I crossed  only  small  streams  making 
their  way  south  to  the  Colorado,  or  lost  in  sand — as  the  Mo-hah-ve  ; while 
to  the  left,  lofty  mountains,  their  summits  white  with  snow,  were  often  visi- 
ble, and  which  must  have  turned  water  to  the  north  as  well  as  to  the  south, 
and  thus  constituted,  on  this  part,  the  southern  rim  of  the  Basin.  At  the 
head  of  the  Santa  Clara  fork,  and  in  the  Vegas  de  Santa  Clara,  we  crossed 
the  ridge  which  parted  the  two  systems  of  waters.  We  entered  the  Basin 
at  that  point,  and  have  travelled  in  it  ever  since,  having  its  southeastern 
rim  (the  Wah-satch  mountain)  on  the  right,  and  crossing  the  streams  which 
flow  down  into  it.  The  existence  of  the  Basin  is  therefore  an  established 
fact  in  my  mind  ; its  extent  and  contents  are  yet  to  be  better  ascertained. 
It  cannot  be  less  than  four  or  five  hundred  miles  each  way,  and  must  lie 
principally  in  the  Alta  California;  the  demarcation  latitude  of  42°  proba- 
bly cutting  a segment  from  the  north  part  of  the  rim.  Of  its  interior,  but 
little  is  known.  It  is  called  a desert , and,  from  what  I saw  of  it,  sterility 
may  be  its  prominent  characteristic ; but  where  there  is  so  much  water, 
there  must  be  some  oasis.  The  great  river,  and  the  great  lake,  reported,, 
may  not  be  equal  to  the  report;  but  where  there  is  so  much  snow,  there 
must  be  streams ; and  where  there  is  no  outlet,  there  must  be  lakes  to  hold 
the  accumulated  waters,  or  sands  to  swallow  them  up.  In  this  eastern 
part  of  the  Basin,  containing  Sevier,  Utah,  and  the  Great  Salt  lakes,  and 
the  rivers  and  creeks  falling  into  them,  we  know  there  is  good  soil  and 
good  grass,  adapted  to  civilized  settlements.  In  the  western  part,  on  Sal- 
mon Trout  river,  and  some  other  streams,  the  same  remark  may  be  made> 
The  contents  of  this  Great  Basin  are  yet  to  be  examined.  That  it  is 
peopled,  we  know ; but  miserably  and  sparsely.  From  all  that  I heard  and 
saw,  I should  say  that  humanity  here  appeared  in  its  lowest  form,  and  in 
its  most  elementary  state.  Dispersed  in  single  families;  without  fire  arms; 
eating  seeds  and  insects ; digging  roots,  (and  hence  their  name) — such  is 
the  condition  of  the  greater  part.  Others  are  a degree  higher,  and  live  in 
communities  upon  some  lake  or  river  that  supplies  fish,  and  from  which 
they  repulse  the  miserable  Digger.  The  rabbit  is  the  largest  animal  known 
in  this  desert ; its  flesh  affords  a little  meat ; and  their  bag-like  covering  is 
made  of  its  skins.  The  wild  sage  is  their  only  wood,  and  here  it  is  of  ex- 
traordinary size — sometimes  a foot  in  diameter,  and  six  or  eight  feet  high. 
It  serves  for  fuel,  for  building  material,  for  sheltef  to  the  rabbits,  and  for 
some  sort  of  covering  for  the  feet  and  legs  in  cold  weather.  Such  are  the 
accounts  of  the  inhabitants  and  productions  of  the  Great  Basin ; and  which, 
though  imperfect,  must  have  some  foundation, and  excite  our  desire  to  know* 
the  whole. 


277 


[ 174  ] 

The  whole  idea  of  such  a desert,  and  such  a people,  is  a novelty  in  our 
country,  and  excites  Asiatic,  not  American  ideas.  Interior  basins,  with 
their  own  systems  of  lakes  and  rivers,  and  often  sterile,  are  common  enough 
in  Asia ; people  still  in  the  elementary  state  of  families,  living  in  deserts, 
with  no  other  occupation  than  the  mere  animal  search  for  food,  may  still 
be  seen  in  that  ancient  quarter  of  the  globe  ; but  in  America  such  things 
are  new  and  strange,  unknown  and  unsuspected,  and  discredited  when 
related.  But  I flatter  myself  that  what  is  discovered,  though  not  enough 
to  satisfy  curiosity,  is  sufficient  to  excite  it,  and  that  subsequent  explorations 
will  complete  what  has  been  commenced. 

This  account  of  the  Great  Basin,  it  will  be  remembered,  belongs  to  the 
Alta  California,  and  has  no  application  to  Oregon,  whose  capabilities  may 
justify  a separate  remark.  Referring  to  my  journal  for  particular  descrip- 
tions, and  for  sectional  boundaries  between  good  and  bad  districts,  I can 
only  say,  in  general  and  comparative  terms,  that,  in  that  branch  of  agri- 
culture which  implies  the  cultivation  of  grains  and  staple  crops,  it  would 
be  inferior  to  the  Atlantic  States,  though  many  parts  are  superior  for  wheat; 
while  in  the  rearing  of  flocks  and  herds  it  would  claim  a high  place.  Its 
grazing  capabilities  are  great;  and  even  in  the  indigenous  grass  now  there, 
an  element  of  individual  and  national  wealth  may  be  found.  In  fact,  the 
valuable  grasses  begin  within  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  the  Missouri 
frontier,  and  extend  to  the  Pacific  ocean.  East  of  the  Rocky  mountains, 
it  is  the  short  curly  grass,  on  which  the  buffalo  delight  to  feed,  (whence  its 
name  of  buffalo,)  and  which  is  still  good  when  dry  and  apparently  dead. 
West  of  those  mountains  it  is  a larger  growth,  in  clusters,  and  hence  called 
bunch  grass,  and  which  has  a second  or  fall  growth.  Plains  and  mountains 
both  exhibit  them ; and  I have  seen  good  pasturage  at  an  elevation  of  ten 
thousand  feet.  In  this  spontaneous  product,  the  trading  or  travelling  cara- 
vans can  find  subsistence  for  their  animals;  and  in  military  operations  any 
number  of  cavalry  may  be  moved,  and  any  number  of  cattle  may  be  driven; 
and  thus  men  and  horses  be  supported  on  long  expeditions,  and  even  in 
winter  in  the  sheltered  situations. 

Commercially,  the  value  of  the  Oregon  country  must  be  great,  washed 
as  it  is  by  the  north  Pacific  ocean — fronting  Asia — producing  many  of  the 
elements  of  commerce — mild  and  healthy  in  its  climate — and  becoming,  as 
it  naturally  will,  a thoroughfare  for  the  East  India  and  China  trade. 

Turning  our  faces  once  more  eastward,  on  the  morning  of  the  27th  we 
left  the  Utah  lake,  and  continued  for  two  days  to  ascend  the  Spanish  fork, 
which  is  dispersed  in  numerous  branches  among  very  rugged  mountains, 
which  afford  few  passes,  and  render  a familiar  acquaintance  with  them 
necessary  to  the  traveller.  The  stream  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  a val- 
ley, the  mountains  rising  often  abruptly  from  the  water’s  edge;  but  a good 
trail  facilitated  our  travelling,  and  there  were  frequent  bottoms,  covered 
with  excellent  grass.  The  streams  are  prettily  and  variously  wooded;  and 
every  where  the  mountain  shows  grass  and  timber. 

At  our  encampment  on  the  evening  of  the  28th,  near  the  head  of  one 
of  the  branches  we  had  ascended,  strata  of  bituminous  limestone  were 
displayed  in  an  escarpment  on  the  river  bluffs,  in  which  were  contained  a 
variety  of  fossil  shells  of  new  species. 

It  will  be  remembered,  that  in  crossing  this  ridge  about  120  miles  to  the 
northward  in  August  last,  strata  of  fossiliferous  rock  were  discovered,  which 


278 


[ 174  ] 

have  been  referred  to  the  oolitic  period;  it  is  probable  that  these  rocks  also 
belong  to  the  same  formation. 

A few  miles  from  this  encampment  we  reached  the  head  of  the  stream; 
and  crossing,  by  an  open  and  easy  pass,  the  dividing  ridge  which  separates 
the  waters  of  the  Great  Basin  from  those  of  the  Colorado,  we  reached  the 
head  branches  of  one  of  its  larger  tributaries,  which,  from  the  decided  color 
of  its  waters,  has  received  the  name  of  White  river.  The  snows  of  the 
mountains  were  now  beginning  to  melt,  and  all  the  little  rivulets  were 
running  by  in  rivers,  and  rapidly  becoming  difficult  to  ford.  Continuing  a 
few  miles  up  a branch  of  White  river,  we  crossed  a dividing  ridge  between 
its  waters  and  those  of  the  Uintah . The  approach  to  the  pass,  which  is 
the  best  known  to  Mr.  Walker,  was  somewhat  difficult  for  packs,  and  im- 
practicable for  wagons — all  the  streams  being  shut  in  by  narrow  ravines, 
and  the  narrow  trail  along  the  steep  hill  sides  allowing  the  passage  of  only 
one  animal  at  a time.  From  the  summit  we  had  a fine  view  of  the  snowy 
Bear  River  range;  and  there  were  still  remaining  beds  of  snow  on  the  cold 
sides  of  the  hills  near  the  pass.  We  descended  by  a narrow  ravine,  in 
which  was  rapidly  gathered  a little  branch  of  the  Uintah,  and  halted  to 
ooon  about  1,500  feet  below  the  pass,  at  an  elevation,  by  the  boiling  point, 
of  6,900  feet  above  the  sea. 

The  next  day  we  descended  along  the  river,  and  about  noon  reached  a 
point  where  three  forks  come  together.  Fording  one  of  these  with  some 
difficulty,  we  continued  up  the  middle  branch,  which,  from  the  color  of  its 
waters,  is  named  the  Red  river.  The  few  passes,  and  extremely  rugged 
nature  of  the  country,  give  to  it  great  strength,  and  secure  the  Utahs  from 
the  intrusion  of  their  enemies.  Crossing  in  the  afternoon  a somewhat 
broken  highland,  covered  in  places  with  fine  grasses,  and  with  cedar  on 
the  hill  sides,  we  encamped  at  evening  on  another  tributary  to  the  Uintah, 
called  the  Duchesne  fork.  The  water  was  very  clear,  the  stream  not  being 
yet  swollen  by  the  melting  snows;  and  we  forded  it  without  any  difficulty. 
It  is  a considerable  branch,  being  spread  out  by  islands,  the  largest  arm 
being  about  a hundred  feet  wide;  and  the  name  it  bears  is  probably  that 
of  some  old  French  trapper. 

The  next  day  we  continued  down  the  river,  which  we  were  twice  obliged 
to  cross;  and,  the  water  having  risen  during  the  night,  it  was  almost  every 
where  too  deep  to  be  forded.  After  travelling  about  sixteen  miles,  we  en- 
camped again  on  the  left  bank. 

I obtained  here  an  occultation  of  8 Scorpii  at  the  dark  limb  of  the  moon, 
which  gives  for  the  longitude  of  the  place  112°  18'  30",  and  the  latitude 
40°  18'  53". 

June  1. — We  left  to  day  the  Duchesne  fork,  and,  after  traversing  a broken 
country  for  about  sixteen  miles,  arrived  at  noon  at  another  considerable 
branch,  a river  of  great  velocity,  to  which  the  trappers  have  improperly 
given  the  name  of  Lake  fork.  The  name  applied  to  it  by  the  Indians  sig- 
nifies great  swiftness,  and  is  the  same  which  they  use  to  express  the  speed 
of  a race  horse.  It  is  spread  out  in  various  channels  over  several  hundred 
yards,  and  is  every  where  too  deep  and  swift  to  be  forded.  At  this  season 
of  the  year,  there  is  an  uninterrupted  noise  from  the  large  rocks  which  are 
rolled  along  the  bed.  After  infinite  difficulty,  and  the  delay  of  a day,  we 
succeeded  in  getting  the  stream  bridged,  and  got  over  with  the  loss  of  one 
of  our  animals.  Continuing  our  route  across  a broken  country,  of  which 
the  higher  parts  were  rocky  and  timbered  with  cedar,  and  the  lower  parts 


279 


[ 174  ] 

covered  with  good  grass,  we  reached,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  3d,  the 
Uintah  fort,  a trading  post  belonging  to  Mr.  A.  Roubidean,  on  the  principal 
fork  of  the  Uintah  river.  We  found  the  stream  nearly  as  rapid  and  diffi- 
cult as  the  Lake  fork,  divided  into  several  channels,  which  were  too  broad 
to  be  bridged.  With  the  aid  of  guides  from  the  fort,  we  succeeded,  with 
very  great  difficulty,  in  fording  it ; and  encamped  near  the  fort,  which  is 
situated  a short  distance  above  the  junction  of  two  branches  which  make 
the  river. 

By  an  immersion  of  the  1st  satellite,  (agreeing  well  with  the  result  of  the 
occultation  observed  at  the  Duchesne  fork,)  the  longitude  of  the  post  is  109° 
56'  42",  the  latitude  40°  27'  45". 

It  has  a motley  garrison  of  Canadian  and  Spanish  engages  and  hunters, 
with  the  usual  number  of  Indian  women.  We  obtained  a small  supply  of 
sugar  and  coffee,  with  some  dried  meat  and  a cow,  which  was  a very  ac- 
ceptable change  from  the  pinnli  on  which  we  had  subsisted  for  some  weeks 
past.  I strengthened  my  party  at  this  place  by  the  addition  of  Auguste 
Archambean,  an  excellent  voyageur  and  hunter,  belonging  to  the  class  of 
Carson  and  Godey. 

On  the  morning  of  the  5th  we  left  the  fort*  and  the  Uintah  river,  and 
continued  our  road  over  a broken  country,  which  afforded,  however,  a rich 
addition  to  our  botanical  collection ; and,  after  a march  of  25  miles,  were 
again  checked  by  another  stream,  called  Ashley’s  fork,  where  we  were  de- 
tained until  noon  of  the  next  day. 

An  immersion  of  the  2d  satellite  gave  for  this  place  a longitude  of  109° 
27'  07",  the  latitude  by  observation  being  40°  28'  07". 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  we  succeeded  in  finding  a ford  ; and, 
after  travelling  fifteen  miles,  encamped  high  up  on  the  mountain  side,  where 
we  found  excellent  and  abundant  grass,  which  we  had  not  hitherto  seen. 
A new  species  of  elymus , which  had  a purgative  and  weakening  effect 
upon  the  animals,  had  occurred  abundantly  since  leaving  the  fort.  From 
this  point,  by  observation  7,300  feet  above  the  sea,  we  had  a view  of  the 
Colorado  below,  shut  up  amongst  rugged  mountains,  and  which  is  the  re- 
cipient of  all  the  streams  we  had  been  crossing  since  we  passed  the  rim  of 
the  Great  Basin  at  the  head  of  the  Spanish  fork. 

On  the  7th  we  had  a pleasant  but  long  day’s  journey,  through  beautiful 
little  valleys  and  a high  mountain  country,  arriving  about  evening  at  the 
verge  of  a steep  and  rocky  ravine,  by  which  we  descended  to  “ Brown’s 
hole’’  This  is  a place  well  known  to  trappers  in  the  country,  where  the 
canons  through  which  the  Colorado  runs  expand  into  a narrow  but  pretty 
valley,  about  sixteen  miles  in  length.  The  river  was  several  hundred 
yards  in  breadth,  swollen  to  the  top  of  its  banks,  near  to  which  it  was  in 
many  places  fifteen  to  twenty  feet  deep.  We  repaired  a skin  boat  which 
had  been  purchased  at  the  fort,  and,  after  a delay  of  a day,  reached  the  op- 
posite banks  with  much  less  delay  than  had  been  encountered  on  the  Uin- 
tah waters.  According  to  information,  the  lower  end  of  the  valley  is  the 
most  eastern  part  of  the  Colorado ; and  the  latitude  of  our  encampment, 
which  was  opposite  to  the  remains  of  an  old  fort  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
river,  was  40°  46'  27",  and,  by  observation,  the  elevation  above  the  sea 


* This  fort  was  attacked  and  taken  by  a band  of  the  Utah  Indians  since  we  parsed  it ; and  the 
men  of  the  garrison  killed,  the  women  carried  off.  Mr.  Roubideau,  a trader  of  St.  Louis,  was  ab- 
sent, and  so  escaped  the  fate  of  the  rest. 


280 


£ 174  ] 

5,150  feet.  The  bearing  to  the  entrance  of  the  caiion  below  was  south  20° 
cast.  Here  the  river  enters  between  lofty  precipices  of  red  rock,  and  the 
country  below  is  said  to  assume  a very  rugged  character;  the  river  and 
■its  affluents  passing  through  canons  which  forbid  all  access  to  (he  water. 
This  sheltered  little  valley  was  formerly  a favorite  wintering  ground  for 
£he  trappers,  as  it  afforded  them  sufficient  pasturage  for  their  animals,  and 
the  surrounding  mountains  are  well  stocked  with  game. 

We  surprised  a flock  of  mountain  sheep  as  we  descended  to  the  river, 
and  our  hunters  killed  several.  The  bottoms  of  a small  stream  called  the 
Vermillion  creek,  which  enters  the  left  bank  of  the  river  a short  distance 
below  our  encampment,  were  covered  abundantly  with  F.  vermiculciris , 
and  other  chenopodiaceous  shrubs.  From  the  lower  end  of  Brown’s  hole 
-we  issued  by  a remarkably  dry  canon,  fifty  or  sixty  yards. wide,  and  rising, 
as  we  advanced,  to  the  height  of  six  or  eight  hundred  feet.  Issuing  from 
this,  and  crossing  a small  green  valley,  we  entered  another  rent  of  the  same 
nature,  still  narrower  than  the  other,  the  rocks  on  either  side  rising  in  nearly 
vertical  precipices  perhaps  1,500  feet  in  height.  These  places  are  men- 
tioned, to  give  some  idea  of  the  country  lower  down  on  the  Colorado,  to 
which  the  trappers  usually  apply  the  name  of  a canon  country.  The  canon 
opened  upon  a pond  of  water,  where  we  halted  to  noon.  Several  flocks  of 
mountain  sheep  were  here  among  the  rocks,  which  rung  with  volleys  of 
small  arms.  In  the  afternoon  we  entered  upon  an  ugly,  barren,  and  broken 
•country,  corresponding  well  with  that  we  had  traversed  a few  degrees 
north,  on  the  same  side  of  the  Colorado.  The  Vermillion  creek  afforded 
us  brackish  water  and  indifferent  grass  for  the  night. 

A few  scattered  cedar  trees  were  the  only  improvement  of  the  country 
on  the  following  day;  and  at  a little  spring  of  bad  water,  where  we  halted 
to  noon,  we  had  not  even  the  shelter  of  these  from  the  hot  rays  of  the  sun. 
At  night  we  encamped  in  a fine  grove  of  cottonwood  trees,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Elk  Head  river,  the  principal  fork  of  the  Yampah  river,  commonly 
called  by  the  trappers  the  Bear  river.  We  made  here  a very  strong  cortil 
and  fort,  and  formed  the  camp  into  vigilant  guards.  The  country  we  were 
now  entering  is  constantly  infested  by  war  parties  of  the  Sioux  and  other 
Indians,  and  is  considered  among  the  most  dangerous  war  grounds  in  the 
Rocky  mountains;  parties  of  whites  having  been  repeatedly  defeated  on 
this  river. 

On  the  11th  we  continued  up  the  river,  which  is  a considerable  stream, 
fifty  to  a hundred  yards  in  width,  handsomely  and  continuously  wooded 
with  groves  of  the  narrow-leaved  cottonwood,  (populns  an gustifolia  ;) 
with  these  were  thickets  of  willow  and  grain  du  bceuf.  The  characteristic 
plant  along  the  river  is  F.  vermicularis , which  generally  covers  the  bot- 
toms ; mingled  with  this,  are  saline  shrubs  and  artemisia.  The  new  variety 
of  grass  which  we  had  seen  on  leaving  the  Uintah  fort  had  now  disap- 
peared. The  country  on  either  side  was  sandy  and  poor,  scaniily  wooded 
with  cedars,  but  the  river  bottoms  afforded  good  pasture.  Three  ante- 
lopes were  killed  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  encamped  a little  below  a branch 
of  the  river,  called  St.  Vrain’s  fork.  A few  miles  above  was  the  fort  at 
which  Frapp’s  party  had  been  defeated  two  years  since  ; and  we  passed 
during  the  day  a place  where  Carson  had  been  fired  upon  so  close  that  one 
of  the  men  had  five  bullets  through  his  body.  Leaving  this  river  the  next 
morning,  we  took  our  way  across  the  hills,  where  every  hollow  had  a 
spring  of  running  water,  with  good  grass. 


281 


[ 174  ] 


Yesterday  and  to-day  we  have  had  before  our  eyes  the  high  mountains 
which  divide  the  Pacific  from  the  Mississippi  waters;  and  entering  here 
among  the  lower  spurs,  or  foot  hills  of  the  range,  the  face  of  the  country 
began  to  improve  with  a magical  rapidity.  Not  only  the  river  bottoms, 
but  the  hills,  were  covered  with  grass ; and  among  the  usual  varied  flora 
of  the  mountain  region,  these  were  occasionally  blue  with  the  showy  bloom 
of  a lupiniis.  In  the  course  of  the  morning  we  had  the  first  glad  view  of 
buffalo,  and  welcomed  the  appearance  of  two  old  bulls  with  as  much  joy 
as  if  they  had  been  messengers  from  home  ; and  when  we  descended  to 
noon  on  St.  Vrain’s  fork,  an  affluent  of  Green  river,  the  hunters  brought  in 
mountain  sheep  and  the  meat  of  two  fat  bulls.  Fresh  entrails  in  the  river 
showed  us  that  there  were  Indians  above  ; and,  at  evening,  judging  it  un- 
safe to  encamp  in  the  bottoms,  which  were  wooded  only  with  willow  thick- 
ets, we  ascended  to  the  spurs  above,  and  forted  strongly  in  a small  aspen 
grove,  near  to  which  was  a spring  of  cold  water.  The  hunters  killed  two 
fine  cows  near  the  camp.  A band  of  elk  broke  out  of  a neighboring  grove; 
antelopes  were  running  over  the  hills ; and  on  the  opposite  river  plains, 
herds  of  buffalo  were  raising  clouds  of  dust.  The  country  here  appeared 
more  variously  stocked  with  game  than  any  part  of  the  Rocky  mountains 
we  had  visited  ; and  its  abundance  is  owing  to  the  excellent  pasturage, 
and  its  dangerous  character  as  a war  ground. 

June  13.-^-There  was  snow  here  near  our  mountain  camp.,  and  the  morn- 
ing was  beautiful  and  cool.  Leaving  St.  Vrain’sfork,  we  took  our  way  di- 
rectly towards  the  summit  of  the  dividing  ridge.  The  bottoms  of  the  streams 
and  level  places  were  wooded  with  aspens ; and  as  vve  neared  the  summit, 
we  entered  again  the  piney  region.  We  had  a delightful  morning’s  ride, 
the  ground  affording  us  an  excellent  bridle  path,  and  reached  the  summit 
towards  midday,  at  an  elevation  of  8,000  feet.  With  joy  and  exultation  we 
saw  ourselves' once  more  on  the  top  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  beheld  a 
little  stream  taking  its  course  towards  the  rising  sun.  It  was  an  affluent  of 
the  Platte,  called  PullanJs  fork,  and  we  descended  to  noon  upon  it.  It  is 
a pretty  stream,  twenty  yards  broad,  and  bears  the  name  of  a trapper  who, 
some  years  since,  was  killed  here  by  the  Gros  Ventre  Indians. 

Issuing  from  the  pines  in  the  afternoon,  we  saw  spread  out  before  us  the 
valley  of  the  Platte,  with  the  pass  of  the  Medicine  Butte  beyond,  and  some 
of  the  Sweet  Water  mountains ; but  a smoky  haziness  in  the  air  entirely 
obscured  the  Wind  River  chain. 

We  were  now  about  two  degrees  south  of  the  South  Pass,  and  our  course 
home  would  have  been  eastwardly  ; but  that  would  have  taken  us  over 
ground  already  examined,  and  therefore  without  the  interest  which  would 
excite  curiosity.  Southwardly  there  were  objects  worthy  to  be  explored,  to 
wit : the  approximation  of  the  head  waters  of  three  different  rivers — the 
Platte,  the  Arkansas,  and  the  Grand  River  fork  of  the  Rio  Colorado  of  the 
gulf  of  California  ; the  Passes  at  the  heads  of  these  rivers;  and  the  three 
remarkable  mountain  coves,  called  Parks,  in  which  they  took  their  rise. 
One  of  these  Parks  was,  of  course,  on  the  western  side  of  the  dividing  ridge; 
and  a visit  to  it  would  require  us  once  more  to  cross  the  summit  of  the 
Rocky  mountains  to  the  west,  and  then  to  re-cross  to  the  east  ; making,  in 
all,  with  the  transit  we  had  just  accomplished,  three  crossings  of  that  moun- 
tain in  this  section  of  its  course.  But,  no  matter.  The  coves,  the  heads  of 
the  rivers,  the  approximation  of  their  waters,  the  practicability  of  the  moun- 
tain passes,  and  the  locality  of  the  three  Parks,  were  all  objects  of  inter- 
est, and,  although  well  known  to  hunters  and  trappers,  were  unknown  to 


282 


[ 174  ] 

science  and  to  history.  We  therefore  changed  our  course,  and  turned  up 
the  valley  of  the  Platte  instead  of  going  down  it. 

We  crossed  several  small  affluents,  and  again  made  a fortified  camp  in 
a grove.  The  country  had  now  become  very  beautiful — rich  in  water, 
grass,  and  game  ; and  to  these  were  added  the  charm  of  scenery  and  pleas- 
ant weather. 

June  14. — Our  route  this  morning  lay  along  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
over  the  long  low  spurs  which  sloped  gradually  down  to  the  river,  forming 
the  broad  valley  of  the  Platte.  The  country  is  beautifully  watered.  In  al- 
most every  hollow  ran  a clear,  cool  mountain  stream;  and  in  the  course  of 
the  morning  we  crossed  seventeen,  several  of  them  being  large  creeks,  forty 
to  fifty  feet  wide,  with  a swift  current,  and  tolerably  deep.  These  were 
variously  wooded  with  groves  of  aspen  and  cottonwood,  with  willow, 
cherry,  and  other  shrubby  trees.  Buffalo,  antelope,  and  elk,  were  frequent 
during  the  day  ; and,  in  their  abundance,  the  latter  sometimes  reminded 
us  slightly  of  the  Sacramento  valley. 

We  halted  at  noon  on  Potter’s  fork — a clear  and  swift  stream,  forty  yards 
wide,  and  in  many  places  deep  enough  to  swim  our  animals ; and  in  the 
evening  encamped  on  a pretty  stream,  where  there  were  several  beaver 
dams,  and  many  trees  recently  cut  down  by  the  beaver.  We  gave  to  this 
the  name  of  Beaver  Dam  creek,  as  now  they  are  becoming  sufficiently  rare 
to  distinguish  by  their  name  the  streams  on  which  they  are  found.  In  this 
mountain  they  occurred  more  abundantly  than  elsewhere  in  all  our  journey, 
in  which  their  vestiges  had  been  scarcely  seen. 

The  next  day  we  continued  our  journey  up  the  valley,  the  country  pre- 
senting much  the  same  appearance,  except  that  the  grass  was  more  scanty 
on  the  ridges,  over  which  was  spread  a scrubby  growth  of  sage  ; but  still 
the  bottoms  of  the  creeks  were  broad,  and  afforded  good  pasture  grounds. 
We  had  an  animated  chase  after  a grizzly  bear  this  morning,  which  we 
tried  to  lasso.  Fuentes  threw  the  lasso  upon  his  neck,  but  it  slipped  off, 
and  he  escaped  into  the  dense  thickets  of  the  creek,  into  which  we  did  not 
like  to  venture.  Our  course  in  the  afternoon  brought  us  to  the  main  Platte 
river,  here  a handsome  stream,  with  a uniform  breadth  of  seventy  yards, 
except  where  widened  by  frequent  islands.  It  was  apparently  deep,  with 
a moderate  current,  and  wooded  with  groves  of  large  willow. 

The  valley  narrowed  as  we  ascended,  and  presently  degenerated  into  a 
gorge,  through  which  the  river  passed  as  through  a gate.  We  entered  it, 
and  found  ourselves  in  the  New  Park — a beautiful  circular  valley  of  thirty 
miles  diameter,  walled  in  all  round  with  snowy  mountains,  rich  with  water 
and  with  grass,  fringed  with  pine  on  the  mountain  sides  below  the  snow 
line,  and  a paradise  to  all  grazing  animals.  The  Indian  name  for  it  signi- 
fies “ cow  lodge  of  which  our  own  may  be  considered  a translation  ; the 
enclosure,  the  grass,  the  water,  and  the  herds  of  buffalo  roaming  over  it, 
naturally  presenting  the  idea  of  a park.  We  halted  for  the  night  just  within 
the  gate,  and  expected,  as  usual,  to  see  herds  of  buffalo  ; but  an  Arapahoe 
village  had  been  before  us,  and  not  one  was  to  be  seen.  Latitude  of  the 
encampment  40°  52'  44".  Elevation  by  the  boiling  point  7,720  feet. 

It  is  from  this  elevated  cove,  and  from  the  gorges  of  the  surrounding 
mountains,  and  some  lakes  within  their  bosoms,  that  the  Great  Platte  river 
collects  its  first  waters,  and  assumes  its  first  form ; and  certainly  no  river 
could  ask  a more  beautiful  origin. 

June  16. — In  the  morning  we  pursued  our  way  through  the  Park,  follow- 


283 


C 174  ] 

ing  a principal  branch  of  the  Platte,  and  crossing,  among  many  smaller 
ones,  a bold  stream,  scarcely  fordable,  called  Lodge  Pole  fork,  and  which  is- 
sues from  a lake  in  the  mountains  on  the  right,  ten  miles  long.  In  the  even- 
ing we  encamped  on  a small  stream,  near  the  upper  end  of  the  Park.  Lati- 
tude of  the  camp  40°  33'  22". 

June  17. — We  continued  our  way  among  the  waters  of  the  Park,  over  the 
foot  hills  of  the  bordering  mountains,  where  we  found  good  pasturage,  and 
surprised  and  killed  some  buffalo.  We  fell  into  a broad  and  excellent  trail, 
made  by  buffalo,  where  a wagon  would  pass  with  ease  ; and,  in  the  course 
of  the  morning,  we  crossed  the  summit  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  through 
a pass  which  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  we  had  ever  seen.  The  trail 
led  among  the  aspens,  through  open  grounds,  richly  covered  with  grass,  and 
carried  us  over  an  elevation  of  about  9,000  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea. 

The  country  appeared  to  great  advantage  in  the  delightful  summer 
weather  of  the  mountains,  which  we  still  continued  to  enjoy.  Descending 
from  the  pass,  we  found  ourselves  again  on  the  western  waters ; and  halted 
to  noon  on  the  edge  of  another  mountain  valley,  called  the  Old  Park,  in 
which  is  formed  Grand  river,  one  of  the  principal  branches  of  the  Colorado- 
of  California.  We  were  now  moving  with  some  caution,  as,  from  the  trail* 
we  found  the  Arapahoe  village  had  also  passed  this  way.  As  we  were 
coming  out  of  their  enemy’s  country,  and  this  was  a war  ground,  we  were 
desirous  to  avoid  them.  After  a long  afternoon’s  march,  we  halted  at  night 
on  a small  creek,  tributary  to  a main  fork  of  Grand  river,  which  ran 
through  this  portion  of  the  valley.  The  appearance  of  the  country  in  the 
Old  .Park  is  interesting,  though  of  a different  character  from  the  New  ; in- 
stead of  being  a comparative  plain,  it  is  more  or  less  broken  into  hills,  and 
surrounded  by  the  high  mountains,  timbered  on  the  lower  parts  with 
quaking  asp  and  pines. 

June  IS. — Our  scouts,  who  were  as  usual  ahead,  made  from  a butte  this 
morning  the  signal  of  Indians,  and  we  rode  up  in  time  to  meet  a party  of 
about  30  Arapahoes.  They  were  men  and  women  going  into  the  hills — the 
men  for  game,  the  women  for  roots — and  informed  us  that  the  village  was 
encamped  a few  miles  above,  on  the  main  fork  of  Grand  river,  which  passes 
through  the  midst  of  the  valley.  I made  them  the  usual  presents;  but 
they  appeared  disposed  to  be  unfriendly,  and  galloped  back  at  speed  to  the 
village.  Knowing  that  we  had  trouble  to  expect,  I descended  immediately 
into  the  bottoms  of  Grand  river,  which  were  overflowed  in  places,  the  river 
being  up,  and  made  the  best  encampment  the  ground  afforded.  We  had  no 
time  to  build  a fort,  but  found  an  open  place  among  the  willows,  which  was 
defended  by  the  river  on  one  side  and  ihe  overflowed  bottoms  on  the  other. 
We  had  scarcely  made  our  few  preparations,  when  about  200  of  them  ap- 
peared on  the  verge  of  the  bottom,  mounted,  painted,  and  armed  for  war. 
We  planted  the  American  flag  between  us;  and  a short  parley  ended  in  a 
truce,  with  something  more  than, the  usual  amount  of  presents.  About  20 
Sioux  were  with  them — one  of  them  an  old  chief,  who  had  always  been 
friendly  to  the  whites.  He  informed  me  that,  before  coming  down,  a coun- 
cil had  been  held  at  the  village,  in  which  the  greater  part  had  declared  for 
attacking  us — we  had  come  from  their  enemies,  to  whom  we  had  doubtless 
been  carrying  assistance  in  arms  and  ammunition  ; but  his  own  party,  with 
some  few  of  the  Arapahoes  who  had  seen  us  the  previous  year  in  the 
plains,  opposed  it.  It  will  be  remembered  that  it  is  customary  for  this  peo- 
ple to  attack  the  trading  parties  which  they  meet  in  this  region,  considering 


284 


[ 174  ] 

all  whom  they  meet  on  the  western  side  of  the  mountains  to  be  their  ene- 
mies. They  deceived  me  into  the  belief  that  I should  find  a ford  at  then- 
village,  and  I could  not  avoid  accompanying  them  ; but  put  several  sloughs 
between  us  and  their  village,  and  forted  strongly  on  the  banks  of  the  river, 
which  was  every  where  rapid  and  deep, and  over  a hundred  yards  in  breadth. 
The  camp  was  generally  crowded  with  Indians ; and  though  the  baggage 
was  carefully  watched  and  covered,  a number  of  things  were  stolen. 

The  next  morning  we  descended  the  river  for  about  eight  miles,  and 
halted  a short  distance  above  a canon,  through  which  Grand  river  issues 
from  the  Park.  Here  it  was  smooth  and  deep,  150  yards  in  breadth,  and 
its  elevation  at  this  point  6,700  feet.  A frame  for  the  boat  being  very  soon 
made,  our  baggage  was  ferried  across ; the  horses,  in  the  mean  time,  swim- 
ming over.  A southern  fork  of  Grand  river  here  makes  its  junction,  nearly 
opposite  to  the  branch  by  which  we  had  entered  the  valley,  and  up  this  we 
continued  for  about  eight  miles  in  the  afternoon,  and  encamped  in  a bottom 
on  the  left  bank,  which  afforded  good  grass.  At  our  encampment  it  was 
70  to  90  yards  in  breadth,  sometimes  widened  by  islands,  and  separated  into 
several  channels,  with  a very  swift  current  and  bed  of  rolled  rocks. 

On  the  20th  we  travelled  up  the  left  bank,  with  the  prospect  of  a bad 
road,  the  trail  here  taking  the  opposite  side  ; but  the  stream  was  up,  and  no- 
where fordable.  A piney  ridge  of  mountains,  with  bare  rocky  peaks,  was 
on  our  right  all  the  day,  and  a snowy  mountain  appeared  ahead.  We 
crossed  many  foaming  torrents  with  rocky  beds,  rushing  down  to  the  river; 
and  in  the  evening  made  a strong  fort  in  an  aspen  grove.  The  valley  had 
already  become  very  narrow,  shut  up  more  slosely  in  densely  timbered 
mountains,  the  pines  sweeping  down  the  verge  of  the  bottoms.  The  coq 
de  prairie  ( tetrao  europhasianus)  was  occasionally  seen  among  the  sage. 

We  saw  to-day  the  returning  trail  of  an  Arapahoe  party  which  had  been 
sent  from  the  village  to  look  for  Utahs  in  the  Bayou  Salade,  (South  Park;) 
and  it  being  probable  that  they  would  visit  our  camp  with  the  desire  to  re- 
turn on  horseback,  we  were  more  than  usually  on  the  alert. 

Here  the  river  diminished  to  35  yards,  and,  notwithstanding  the  number 
of  affluents  we  had  crossed,  was  still  a large  stream,  dashing  swiftly  by, 
with  a great  continuous  fall,  and  not  yet  fordable.  We  had  a delightful  ride 
along  a good  trail  among  the  fragrant  pines;  and  the  appearance  of  buffalo 
in  great  numbers  indicated  that  there  were  Indians  in  the  Bayou  Salade, 
(South  Park,)  by  whom  they  were  driven  out.  We  halted  to  noon  under 
the  shade  of  the  pines,  and  the  weather  was  most  delightful.  The  country 
was  literally  alive  with  buffalo ; and  the  continued  echo  of  the  hunter’s 
rifles  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  for  a moment  made  me  uneasy,  thinking 
perhaps  they  were  engaged  with  Indians ; but  in  a short  time  they  came 
into  camp  with  the  meat  of  seven  fat  cows. 

During  the  earlier  part  of  the  day’s  ride,  the  river  had  been  merely  a 
narrow  ravine  between  high  piney  mountains,  backed  on  both  sides,  but 
particulariy  on  the  west,  by  a line  of  snowy  ridges  ; but,  after  several  hours’ 
ride,  the  stream  opened  out  into  a valley  with  pleasant  bottoms.  In  the 
afternoon  the  river  forked  into  three  apparently  equal  streams  ; broad  buffalo 
trails  leading  up  the  left  hand,  and  the  middle  branch  indicating  good  passes 
over  the  mountains  ; but  up  the  right-hand  branch,  (which,  in  the  object  of 
descending  from  the  mountain  by  the  main  head  of  the  Arkansas,  I was 
most  desirous  to  follow,)  there  was  no  sign  of  a buffolo  trace.  Apprehend- 
ng  from  this  reason,  and  the  character  of  the  mountains,  which  are  known 


285 


[ 174  3 

to  be  extremely  rugged,  that  the  right-hand  branch  led  to  no  pass,  I pro- 
i ceeded  up  the  middle  branch,  which  formed  a flat  valley  bottom  between 
timbered  ridges  on  the  left  and  snowy  mountains  on  the  right,  terminating 
in  large  buttes  of  naked  rock.  The  trail  was  good,  and  the  country  inter- 
esting ; and  at  nightfall  we  encamped  in  an  open  place  among  the  pines, 
where  we  built  a strong  fort.  The  mountains  exhibit  their  usual  varied 
growth  of  flowers,  and  at  this  place  I noticed,  among  others,  thermopsis 
montana , whose  bright  yellow  color  makes  it  a showy  plant.  This  has 
been  a characteristic  in  many  parts  of  the  country  since  reaching  the  Uintah 
waters.  With  fields  of  iris  were  aquilegia  coerulea , violets,  esparcette,  and 
strawberries. 

At  dark,  we  perceived  a fire  in  the  edge  of  the  pines,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  valley.  We  had  evidently  not  been  discovered,  and,  at  the  re- 
port of  a gun,  and  the  blaze  of  fresh  fuel  which  was  heaped  on  our  fires, 
those  of  the  strangers  were  instantly  extinguished.  In  the  morning,  they 
were  found  to  be  a party  of  six  trappers,  who  had  ventured  out  among  the 
mountains  after  beaver.  They  informed  us  that  two  of  the  number  with 
which  they  started  had  been  already  killed  by  the  Indians — one  of  them 
but  a few  days  since — by  the  Arapahoes  we  had  lately  seen*  who  had  found 
him  alone  at  a camp  on  this  river,  and  carried  off  his  traps  and  animals. 
As  they  were  desirous  to  join  us,  the  hunters  returned  with  them  to  their 
encampment,  and  we  continued  up  the  valley,  in  which  the  stream  rapidly 
diminished,  breaking  into  small  tributaries — every  hollow  affording  water. 
At  our  noon  halt,  the  hunters  joined  us  with  the  trappers.  While  preparing 
to  start  from  their  encampment,  they  found  themselves  suddenly  surround- 
ed by  a party  of  Arapahoes,  who  informed  them  that  their  scouts  had  dis- 
covered a large  Utah  village  in  the  Bayou  Salade,  (South  Park,)  and  that  a 
large  war  party,  consisting  of  almost  every  man  in  the  village,  except  those 
who  were  too  old  to  go  to  war,  were  going  over  to  attack  them.  The  main 
body  had  ascended  the  left  fork  of  the  river,  which  afforded  a better  pass 
than  the  branch  we  were  on  ; and  this  party  had  followed  our  trail,  in  order 
that  we  might  add  our  force  to  theirs.  Carson  informed  them  that  we  were 
too  far  ahead  to  turn  back,  but  would  join  them  in  the  bayou ; and  the  In- 
dians went  off  apparently  satisfied.  By  the  temperature  of  boiling  water, 
our  elevation  here  was  10,430  feet;  and  still  the  pine  forest  continued,  and 
grass  was  good. 

In  the  afternoon,  we  continued  our  road — occasionally  through  open 
pines,  with  a very  gradual  ascent.  We  surprised  a herd  of  buffalo,  enjoying 
the  shade  at  a small  lake  among  the  pines ; and  they  made  the  dry  branches 
crack,  as  they  broke  through  the  woods.  In  a ride  of  about  three-quarters 
of  an  hour,  and  having  ascended  perhaps  800  feet,  we  reached  the  sum- 
mit of  the  dividing  KiDGE,  which  would  thus  have  an  estimated  height 
of  1 1,200  feet.  Here  the  river  spreads  itself  into  smaLl  branches  and  springs, 
heading  nearly  in  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  which  is  very  narrow.  Imme- 
diately below  us  was  a green  valley, through  which  ran  a stream;  and  a short 
| distance  opposite  rose  snowy  mountains,  whose  summits  were  formed  into 
; peaks  of  naked  rock.  We  soon  afterwards  satisfied  ourselves  that  imme- 
diately beyond  these  mountains  was  the  main  branch  of  the  Arkansas 
: river — most  probably  heading  directly  with  the  little  stream  below  us, 
which  gathered'  its  waters  in  the  snowy  mountains  near  by.  Descriptions 
| of  the  rugged  character  of  the  mountains  around  the  head  of  the  Arkan- 
i sas,  which  their  appearance  amply  justified,  deterred  me  from  making  any 


236 


[ 174  ] 

attempt  to  reach  it,  which  would  have  involved  a greater  length  of  time 
than  now  remained  at  my  disposal. 

In  about  a quarter  ot  an  hour,  we  descended  from  the  summit  of  the  Pass 
into  the  creek  below,  our  road  having  been  very  much  controlled  and  inter- 
rupted by  the  pines  and  springs  on  the  mountain  side.  Turning  up  the 
stream,  we  encamped  on  a bottom  of  good  grass  near  its  head,  which  gath- 
ers its  waters  in  the  dividing  crest  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and,  according 
to  the  best  information  we  could  obtain,  separated  only  by  the  rocky  wall 
of  the  ridge  from  the  head  of  the  main  Arkansas  river.  By  the  observa- 
tions of  the  evening,  the  latitude  of  our  encampment  was  39°  2 O'  24",  and 
south  of  which,  therefore,  is  the  head  of  the  Arkansas  river.  The  stream 
on  which  we  had  encamped  is  the  head  of  either  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit , 
a branch  of  the  Arkansas,  or  the  remotest  head  of  the  south  fork  of  the 
Platte ; as  which,  you  will  find  it  laid  down  on  the  map.  But  descending 
it  only  through  a portion  of  its  course,  we  have  not  been  able  to  settle  this 
point  satisfactorily. 

In  the  evening,  a band  of  buffalo  furnished  a little  excitement,  by  charging 
through  the  camp. 

On  the  following  day,  we  descended  the  stream  by  an  excellent  buffalo 
trail,  along  the  open  grassy  bottom  of  the  river.  On  our  right,  the  bayou 
was  bordered  by  a mountainous  range,  crested  with  rocky  and  naked  peaks; 
and  below,  it  had  a beautiful  park-like  character  of  pretty  level  prairies,  in- 
terspersed among  low  spurs,  wooded  openly  with  pine  and  quaking  asp, 
contrasting  well  with  the  denser  pines  which  swept  around  on  the  moun- 
tain sides.  Descending  always  the  valley  of  the  stream,  towards  noon  we 
descried  a mounted  party  descending  the  point  of  a spur,  and,  judging  them 
to  be  Arapahoes — who,  defeated  or  victorious,  were  equally  dangerous  to 
us,  and  with  whom  a fight  would  be  inevitable — we  hurried  to  post  our- 
selves as  strongly  as  possible  on  some  willow  islands  in  the  river.  We  had 
scarcely  halted  when  they  arrived,  proving  to  be  a party  of  Utah  women, 
who  told  us  that  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge  their  village  was  fighting 
with  the  Arapahoes.  As  soon  as  they  had  given  us  this  information,  they 
filled  the  air  with  cries  and  lamentations,  which  made  us  understand  that 
some  of  their  chiefs  had  been  killed. 

Extending  along  the  river,  directly  ahead  of  us,  was  a low  piney  ridge, 
leaving  between  it  and  the  stream  a small  open  bottom,  on  which  the 
Utahs  had  very  injudiciously  placed  their  village,  which,  according  to  the 
women,  numbered  about  300  warriors.  Advancing  in  the  cover  of  the 
pines,  the  Arapahoes,  about  daylight,  charged  into  the  village,  driving  off 
a great  number  of  their  horses,  and  killing  four  men  ; among  them,  the 
principal  chief  of  the  village.  They  drove  the  horses  perhaps  a mile  be- 
yond the  village,  to  the  end  of  a hollow,  where  they  had  previously  forted 
at  the  edge  of  the  pines.  Here  the  Utahs  had  instantly  attacked  them  in 
turn,  and,  according  to  the  report  of  the  women,  were  getting  rather  the 
best  of  the  day.  The  women  pressed  us  eagerly  to  join  with  their  people, 
and  would  immediately  have  provided  us  with  the  best  horses  at  the  vil- 
lage; but  it  was  not  for  us  to  interfere  in  such  a conflict.  Neither  party 
were  our  friends,  or  under  our  protection  ; and  each  was  ready  to  prey 
upon  us  that  could.  But  we  could  not  help  feeling  an  unusual  excitement 
at  being  within  a few  hundred  yards  of  a fight,  in  which  500  men  were 
•closely  engaged,  and  hearing  the  sharp  cracks  of  their  rifles.  We  were  in 
a bad  position,  and  subject  to  be  attacked  in  it.  Either  party  which  we 


287 


[ 174  ] 

might  meet,  victorious  or  defeated,  was  certain  to  fall  upon  us;  and, gear- 
ing up  immediately,  we  kept  close  along  the  pines  of  the  ridge,  having  it 
between  us  and  the  village,  and  keeping  the  scouts  on  the  summit,  to  give 
j us  notice  of  the  approach  of  Indians.  As  we  passed  by  the  village,  which 
! was  immediately  below  us,  horsemen  were  galloping  to  and  fro,  and  groups 
of  people  were  gathered  around  those  who  were  wounded  and  dead,  and 
who  were  being  brought  in  from  the  field.  We  continued  to  press  on,  and, 
crossing  another  fork,  which  came  in  from  the  right,  after  having  made 
fifteen  miles  from  the  village,  fortified  ourselves  strongly  in  the  pines,  a 
I short  distance  from  the  river. 

During  the  afternoon,  Pike’s  Peak  had  been  plainly  in  view  before  us, 
and,  from  our  encampment,  bore  N.  87°  E.  by  compass.  This  was  a 
familiar  object,  and  it  had  for  us  the  face  of  an  old  friend.  At  its  foot 
“were  the  springs,  where  we  had  spent  a pleasant  day  in  coming  out.  Near 
it  were  the  habitations  of  civilized  men:  and  it  overlooked  the  broad 
smooth  plains,  which  promised  us  an  easy  journey  to  our  home. 

The  next  day  we  left  the  river,  which  continued  its  course  towards 
Pike’s  Peak;  and  taking  a southeasterly  direction,  in  about  ten  miles  we 
crossed  a gentle  ridge,  and,  issuing  from  the  South  Park,  found  ourselves 
involved  among  the  broken  spurs  of  the  mountains  which  border  the  great 
prairie  plains.  Although  broken  and  extremely  rugged,  the  country  was 
very  interesting,  being  well  watered  by  numerous  affluents  to  the  Arkansas 
river,  and  covered  with  grass  and  a variety  of  trees.  The  streams,  which, 
in  the  upper  part  of  their  course,  ran  through  grassy  and  open  hollows, 
after  a few  miles  all  descended  into  deep  and  impracticable  canons,  through 
which  they  found  their  way  to  the  Arkansas  valley.  Here  the  buffalo 
trails  we  had  followed  were  dispersed  among  the  hills,  or  crossed  over  into 
the  more  open  valleys  of  other  streams. 

During  the  day  our  road  was  fatiguing  and  difficult,  reminding  us  much, 
by  its  steep  and  rocky  character,  of  our  travelling  the  year  before  among 
the  Wind  river  mountains;  but  always  at  night  we  found  some  grassy 
bottom,  which  afforded  us  a pleasant  camp.  In  the  deep  seclusion  of  these 
little  streams,  we  found  always  an  abundant  pasturage,  and  a wild  luxu- 
riance of  plants  and  trees.  Aspens  and  pines  were  the  prevailing  timber : 
on  the  creeks,  oak  was  frequent ; but  the  narrow-leaved  cottonwood,  {pop- 
ulus  angustifolia,)  of  unusually  large  size,  and  seven  or  eight  feet  in 
I circumference,  was  the  principal  tree.  With  these  were  mingled  a variety  of 
‘ shrubby  trees,  which  aided  to  make  the  ravines  almost  impenetrable. 

After  several  days’  laborious  travelling,  we  succeeded  in  extricating 
ourselves  from  the  mountains,  and  on  the  morning  of  the  28th  encamped 
immediately  at  their  foot,  on  a handsome  tributary  to  the  Arkansas  river. 
In  the  afternoon  we  descended  the  stream,  winding  our  way  along  the 
| bottoms,  which  were  densely  wooded  with  oak,  and  in  the  evening  en- 
camped near  the  main  river.  Continuing  the  next  day  our  road  along  the 
Arkansas,  and  meeting  on  the  way  a war  party  of  Arapahoe  Indians,  (who 
had  recently  been  committing  some  outrages  at  Bent’s  fort,  killing  stock 
and  driving  off  horses,)  we  arrived  before  sunset  at  the  Pueblo,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit  river,  where  we  had  the  pleasure  to  find 
a number  of  our  old  acquaintances.  The  little  settlement  appeared  in  a 
thriving  condition ; and  in  the  interval  of  our  absence  another  had  been 
1 established  on  the  river,  some  thirty  miles  above. 

June  30. — Our  cavalcade  moved  rapidly  down  the  Arkansas,  along  the 


288 


[ ] 

broad  road  which  follows  the  river,  and  on  the  1st  of  July  we  arrived  at 
Bent’s  fort,  about  70  miles  below  the  mouth  of  the  Fontaine-qui-bouit. 
As  we  emerged  into  view  from  the  groves  on  the  river,  we  were  saluted 
with  a display  of  the  national  flag  and  repeated  discharges  from  the  guns 
of  the  fort,  where  we  were  received  by  Mr.  George  Bent  with  a cordial 
welcome  and  a friendly  hospitality,  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  we  spent 
several  very  agreeable  days.  We  were  now  in  the  region  where  our 
mountaineers  were  accustomed  to  live  ; and  ail  the  dangers  and  difficulties 
of  the  road  being  considered  past,  four  of  them,  including  Carson  and 
Walker,  remained  at  the  fort. 

On  the  5th  we  resumed  our  journey  down  the  Arkansas,  travelling  along 
a broad  wagon  road,  and  encamped  about  twenty  miles  below  the  fort. 
On  the  way  we  met  a very  large  village  of  Sioux  and  Cheyenne  Indians, 
who,  with  the  Arapahoes,  were  returning  from  the  crossing  of  the  Arkan- 
sas, where  they  had  been  to  meet  the  Kioway  and  Camanche  Indians. 
A few  days  previous  they  had  massacred  a party  of  fifteen  Delawares, 
whom  they  had  discovered  in  a fort  on  the  Smoky  Hill  river,  losing  in  the 
affair  several  of  their  own  people.  They  were  desirous  that  we  should 
bear  a pacific  message  to  the  Delawares  on  the  frontier,  from  whom  they 
expected  retaliation  ; and  we  passed  through  them  without  any  difficulty 
or  delay.  Dispersed  over  the  plain  in  scattered  bodies  of  horsemen,  and 
family  groups  of  women  and  children,  with  dog  trains  carrying  baggage,  and 
long  lines  of  pack  horses,  their  appearance  was  picturesque  and  imposing. 

Agreeably  to  your  instructions,  which  required  me  to  complete,  as  far  as 
practicable,  our  examinations  of  the  Kansas,  I left  at  this  encampment  the 
Arkansas  river,  taking  a northeasterly  direction  across  the  elevated  dividing 
grounds  which  separate  that  river  from  the  waters  of  the  Platte.  On  the 
7th  we  crossed  a large  stream,  about  forty  yards  wide,  and  one  or  two  feet 
deep,  flowing  with  a lively  current  on  a sandy  bed.  The  discolored  and 
muddy  appearance  of  the  water  indicated  that  it  proceeded  from  recent 
rains;  and  we  are  inclined  to  consider  this  a branch  of  the  Smoky  Hill 
river,  although,  possibly,  it  may  be  the  Pawnee  fork  of  the  Arkansas.  Be- 
yond this  stream  we  travelled  over  high  and  level  prairies,  halting  at  small 
ponds  and  holes  of  water,  and  using  for  our  fires  the  bois  de  vache , the 
country  being  without  timber.  On  the  evening  of  the  8th  we  encamped 
in  a cottonwood  grove  on  the  banks  of  a sandy  stream  bed,  where  there 
was  water  in  holes  sufficient  for  the  camp.  Here  several  hollows,  or  dry 
creeks  with  sandy  beds,  met  together,  forming  the  head  of  a stream  which 
afterwards  proved  to  be  the  Smoky  Hill  fork  of  the  Kansas  river. 

The  next  morning,  as  we  were  leaving  our  encampment,  a number  of 
Arapahoe  Indians  were  discovered.  They  belonged  to  a war  party  which 
had  scattered  over  the  prairie  in  returning  from  an  expedition  against  the 
Pawnees. 

As  we  travelled  down  the  valley,  water  gathered  rapidly  in  the  sandy 
bed  from  many  little  tributaries ; and  at  evening  it  had  become  a hand- 
some stream,  fifty  to  eighty  feet  in  width,  with  a lively  current  in  small 
channels,  the  water  being  principally  dispersed  among  quicksands. 

Gradually  enlarging,  in  a few  days’  march  it  became  a river  eighty 
yards  in  breadth,  wooded  with  occasional  groves  of  cottonwood.  Our  road 
was  generally  over  level  uplands  bordering  the  river,  which  were  closely 
covered  with  a sward  of  buffalo  grass. 

On  the  10th  we  entered  again  the  buffalo  range,  where  we  had  found  these 


289 


[ 174  ] 

animals  so  abundant  on  our  outward  journey,  and  halted  for  a day  among 
numerous  herds,  in  order  to  make  a provision  of  meat  sufficient  to  carry 
us  to  the  frontier. 

A few  days  afterwards,  we  encamped,  in  a pleasant  evening,  on  a high 
river  prairie,  the  stream  being  less  than  a hundred  yards  broad.  During 
the  night  we  had  a succession  of  thunder  storms,  with  heavy  and  continu- 
1 ous  rain,  and  towards  morning  the  water  suddenly  burst  over  the  banks, 
flooding  the  bottoms,  and  becoming  a large  river,  five  or  six  hundred  yards 
in  breadth.  The  darkness  of  the  night  and  incessant  rain  had  concealed 
from  the  guard  the  rise  of  the  water;  and  the  river  broke  into  the  camp 
so  suddenly,  that  the  baggage  was  instantly  covered,  and  all  our  perishable 
collections  almost  entirely  ruined,  and  the  hard  labor  of  many  months 
destroyed  in  a moment. 

On  the  17th  we  discovered  a large  village  of  Indians  encamped  at  the 
mouth  of  a handsomely  wooded  stream  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river. 
Readily  inferring,  from  the  nature  of  the  encampment,  that  they  were 
Pawnee  Indians,  and  confidently  expecting  good  treatment  from  a people 
who  receive  regularly  an  annuity  from  the  Government,  we  proceeded  di- 
rectly to  the  village,  where  we  found  assembled  nearly  all  the  Pawnee  tribe, 
who  were  now  returning  from  the  crossing  of  the  Arkansas,  where  they 
had  met  the  Kioway  and  Camanche  Indians.  We  were  received  by  them 
with  the  unfriendly  rudeness  and  characteristic  insolence  which  they  never 
fail  to  display  whenever  they  find  an  occasion  for  doing  so  with  impunity. 
The  little  that  remained  of  our  goods  was  distributed  among  them,  but 
proved  entirely  insufficient  to  satisfy  their  greedy  rapacity;  and,  after  some 
delay,  and  considerable  difficulty,  we  succeeded  in  extricating  ourselves 
from  the  village,  and  encamped  on  the  river  about  fifteen  miles  below.* 

The  country  through  which  we  had  been  travelling  since  leaving  the 
Arkansas  river,  for  a distance  of  260  miles,  presented  to  the  eye  only  a 
succession  of  far-stretching  green  prairies,  covered  with  the  unbroken  ver- 
dure of  the  buffalo  grass,  and  sparingly  wooded  along  the  streams  with, 
straggling  trees  and  occasional  groves  of  cottonwood;  but  here  the  country 
began  perceptibly  to  change  its  character,  becoming  a more  fertile,  wooded, 
and  beautiful  region,  covered  with  a profusion  of  grasses,  and  watered  with 
innumerable  little  streams,  which  were  wooded  with  oak.  large  elms,  and 
the  usual  varieties  of  timber  common  to  the  lower  course  of  the  Kansas 
river. 

As  we  advanced,  the  country  steadily  improved,  gradually  assimilating 
itself  in  appearance  to  the  northwestern  part  of  the  State  of  Missouri.  The 
beautiful  sward  of  the  buffalo  grass,  which  is  regarded  as  the  best  and 
most  nutritious  found  on  the  prairies,  appeared  now  only  in  patches,  being 
replaced  by  a longer  and  coarser  grass,  which  covered  the  face  of  the  coun- 
try luxuriantly.  The  difference  in  the  character  of  the  grasses  became 
suddenly  evident  in  the  weakened  condition  of  our  animals,  which  began 
sensibly  to  fail  as  soon  as  we  quitted  the  buffalo  grass. 

The  river  preserved  a uniform  breadth  of  eighty  or  a hundred  yards, 
with  broad  bottoms  continuously  timbered  with  large  cottonwood  treesr 
among  which  were  interspersed  a few  other  varieties. 

* In  a recent  report  to  the  department,  from  Major  Wharton,  who  visited  the  Pawnee  villages 
with  a military  force  some  months  afterwards,  it  is  stated  that  the  Indians  had  intended  to  attack 
our  party  during  the  night  we  remained  at  this  encampment,  but  were  prevented  by  the  interposition 
of  the  Pawnee  Loups. 

19 


290 


[ 174  ] 

While  engaged  in  crossing  one  of  the  numerous  creeks  which  frequently 
impeded  and  checked  our  way,  sometimes  obliging  us  to  ascend  them  for 
several  miles,  one  of  the  people  (Alexis  Ayot)  was  shot  through  the  leg  by 
the  accidental  discharge  of  a rifle — a mortifying  and  painful  mischance, 
to  be  crippled  for  life  by  an  accident,  after  having  nearly  accomplished  in 
safety  a long  and  eventful  journey.  He  was  a young  man  of  remarkably 
good  and  cheerful  temper,  and  had  been  among  the  useful  and  efficient 
men  of  the  party. 

After  having  travelled  directly  along  its  banks  for  two  hundred  and 
ninety  miles,  we  left  the  river,  where  it  bore  suddenly  off  in  a northwesterly 
direction,  towards  its  junction  with  the  Republican  fork  of  the  Kansas,  dis- 
tant about  sixty  miles;  and,  continuing  our  easterly  course,  in  about  twenty 
miles  we  entered  the  wagon  road  from  Santa  Fe  to  Independence,  and  on 
the  last  day  of  July  encamped  again  at  the  little  town  of  Kansas,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Missouri  river. 

During  our  protracted  absence  of  fourteen  months,  in  the  course  of  which 
we  had  necessarily  been  exposed  to  great  varieties  of  weather  and  of  climate, 
no  one  case  of  sickness  had  ever  occurred  among  us. 

Here  ended  our  land  journey ; and  the  day  following  our  arrival,  we 
found  ourselves  on  board  a steamboat  rapidly  gliding  down  the  broad 
Missouri.  Our  travel-worn  animals  had  not  been  sold  and  dispersed  over 
the  country  to  renewed  labor,  but  were  placed  at  good  pasturage  on  the 
frontier,  and  are  now  ready  to  do  their  part  in  the  coming  expedition. 

On  the  6th  of  August  we  arrived  at  St.  Louis,  where  the  party  was 
finally  disbanded ; a great  number  of  the  men  having  their  homes  in  the 
neighborhood. 

Andreas  Fuentes  also  remained  here,  having  readily  found  employment 
for  the  winter,  and  is  one  of  the  men  engaged  to  accompany  me  the  present 
year. 

Pablo  Hernandez  remains  in  the  family  of  Senator  Benton,  where  he  is 
well  taken  care  of,  and  conciliates  good  will  by  his  docility,  intelligence,  and 
amiability.  General  Almonte,  the  Mexican  minister  at  Washington,  to 
whom  he  was  of  course  made  known,  kindly  offered  to  take  charge  of 
him,  and  to  carry  him  back  to  Mexico  ; but  the  boy  preferred  to  remain 
where  he  was  until  he  got  an  education,  for  which  he  shows  equal  ardor 
and  aptitude. 

Our  Chinook  Indian  had  his  wish  to  see  the  whites  fully  gratified.  He 
accompanied  me  to  Washington,  and,  after  remaining  several  months  at 
the  Columbia  college,  was  sent  by  the  Indian  department  to  Philadelphia, 
where,  among  other  things,  he  learned  to  read  and  write  well,  and  speak 
the  English  language  with  some  fluency. 

He  will  accompany  me  in  a few  days  to  the  frontier  of  Missouri,  whence 
he  will  be  sent  with  some  one  of  the  emigrant  companies  to  the  village  at 
the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

Very  respectfully,  your  obedient  servant, 

J.  C.  FREMONT, 

Bt.  Capt.  Topi  Engineers. 


291 


C 1-4  1 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCES 

ALONG 


THE  RO\D  TRAVELLED  BY  THE  EXPEDITION  IN  1843  AND  1844. 


OUTWARD  JOURNEY. 


From  Kansas  landing  to  Fort  Vancouver. 


Date.  | 

1 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
Kansas  landing. 

Localities.  | 

1 

Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

_ , . 

Distance  from  j 
Kansas  landing,  i 

I..-..  *; H" ; 

Localities. 

1843. 

Miles . 

Miles. 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

t . 

May  29 

7 i 

7 

i July  29 

6 

807 

30 

22  i 

29 

30 

24 

831 

31 

26  | 

55 

31 

30 

861 

June  1 

23 

78 

Aug.  1 | 

26 

887 

2 

22 

100 

2 

31 

918 

Medicine  Bow  rive 

3 

23  | 

123 

. 

3 

2l6 

944 

4 

18  1 

141 

4 

18 

962 

North  fork. 

5 

19  ! 

160 

6 

19 

981 

6 

14 

174 

7 

30 

1,011 

7 

8 i 

182 

8 

29 

1,040 

-8 

5 

187 

Junction  of  Smoky 

9 

26 

1,066 

J Sweet  Water. 

Hill  and  Repub- 

10 

23 

1,089 

• 

lican  forks. 

11 

29 

1,118 

10 

l | 

188 

12 

25 

1,143 

11 

24  ! 

212 

• 

13 

s 9 

1,152 

South  Pass. 

12 

28 

240 

• 

i 15 

1,167 

13 

18 

258 

14 

25 

1,192 

14 

17  ! 

275 

15 

29 

1,221 

Green  river,  or  R 

16  ! 

21  | 

296 

Colorado. 

17  j 

i4  i 

310 

16 

26 

1,247  i 

18  | 

23  j 

333 

17 

21  • 

1,268 

19 

18  ! 

351 

18 

! 32 

1,300  1 

20 

26  i 

377 

19 

I 28 

1,328  j 

21 

27  i 

404 

20 

30 

1,358  ; 

22 

26  i 

430 

21 

26 

1,384  i 

23 

26  j 

456 

22 

37 

1,421  | 

24 

34  ! 

490 

1 

23 

12 

1,433  | 

25 

26  s 

516 

Crossing  of  the  Re- 

24 

22 

1,455 

*' 

publican. 

25 

8 

1,463 

Beer  Springs. 

26 

i 24 

540 

! 

26 

21 

1,484 

27 

j 27 

: 567 

27 

21 

1,505 

■ 

28 

30 

! 597 

28 

27 

1,532 

1 

29 

1 21 

! 618 

29 

17 

1,549 

30 

| 26 

644 

South  fork. 

30 

19 

1,568 

July  1 

; 32 

676 

31 

26 

1,594 

2 

29 

705 

Sept.  1 

22 

1,616 

3 

28 

733 

2 

17 

1,633 

4 

18 

751 

St.  Vraiii’s  fort. 

3 

3 

1,636 

Mouth  of  Bear  rive 

26 

4 

755 

4 

6 

1,642 

I 

27 

26 

781 

5 

27 

1,669 

28 

20 

801 

[ 

6 

25 

! L694 

1 

1 

Table  of  distances — Continued. 


If 

a * 

o .5 

a 

■ 

'33  * 
> 

CS 

1? 

Date. 

<o 

8JS 

C as 

Localities. 

Date. 

if 

8-2 
C as 

Localities.. 

e5  ® 

« g 

3 ® 

03  03 

.2^3 

s ^ 

.2  g 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

Sept.  8 

20 

1,714 

Shore  of  the  Salt 

Oct.  9 

24 

2,254 

lake. 

10 

2 

2,256 

Fort  Boise. 

9 

8 

1,722 

Island  in  the  Salt  i 

11 

20 

2,276 

lake. 

12 

j 27 

2,303 

10 

28 

1,750 

13 

' 20 

2,323 

12 

13 

1,763 

14 

1 22 

2,345 

13 

27 

1,790 

15 

; 26 

2,371 

14 

24 

1,814 

16 

1 13 

j 2.384 

15 

19 

1,833 

17 

| 21 

2,405 

16 

26 

1,859 

18 

; 20 

| 2,425 

17 

24 

1,883 

19 

21 

2,446 

18 

22 

23 

12 

1,906 

1,9  re; 

Fort  Hall. 

20 
21  | 

12 

5 

2,458 

2,463 

24 

10 

1,928 

American  falls  on 

22 

16 

2,479 

Lewis’s  fork. 

24  | 

18 

2,497 

• 

25 

13 

1,941 

25  j 

18 

2,515 

26 

17 

1,958 

26 

3 

2,518 

Fort  Nez  Perce,  at 

27 

20 

1,978 ; 

the  mouth  ofWa- 

28 

25 

2,003  i 

' 

lahwalah  river. 

29 

24 

2,027  i 

28  | 

19 

2,537 

30 

26 

2,053  ! 

■29  I 

19 

2,556 

• 

Oct.  1 

16 

2,069  , 

30 

21 

2,577 

2 

29 

2,098  : 

31  ! 

26 

2,603 

3 

16 

2,114 

Nov.  1 | 

23 

2,626 

. 

4 

19 

2,133  j 

2 1 

19 

2,645 

5 

26 

2,159 

' 3 

17 

2,662 

6 

22 

2,181  ! 

4 1 

14 

2,676 

Dalles. 

7 

23 

2,204 

6 & 7 : 

90 

2,766 

Fort  Vancouver. 

8 

26 

2,230  ! 

HOMEWARD  JOURNEY. 

FromHhe  Dalles  to  the  Missouri  river. 


Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
the  Dalles. 

Localities. 

i Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
the  Dalles. 

Localities. 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

Nov.  25 

12 

12 

Dec.  4 

9 

147 

26 

22 

34 

5 

11 

158 

27 

13 

47 

6 

19 

177 

28 

21 

68 

7 

25 

202 

29 

21 

89 

8 

19 

221 

30 

10  ; 

99 

9 

14 

235 

"Dec.  1 

6 

105 

10 

15 

250 

Tlamath  lake. 

2 

11 

116 

12 

5 

255 

3 

22 

138 

13 

12 

267 

293 


[ 174  } 


Table  of  distances — Continued. 


Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
J the  Dalles. 

Localities. 

Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
the  Dalles. 

Localities. 

: 

1843. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

1844. 

f files. 

Milts. 

Dec.  14 

21 

288 

Feb.  20 

3 

1,001 

Summit  of  the  Sierra 

15 

21 

309 

Nevada. 

16 

9 

318 

Summer  lake. 

21 

5 

1,006 

17 

6 

324 

22 

3 

1,009 

18 

20 

344 

23 

5 

1,014 

19 

21 

365 

24 

12 

1,026 

20 

26 

39  L 

Lake  Abevt. 

25 

14 

1,040 

21 

6 

397 

26 

14 

1,054 

22 

29 

426 

27 

1 

1,055 

23 

7 

433 

28 

10 

1,065 

24 

13 

446 

Christmas  lake. 

Mar.  1 

6 

1,071 

25 

14 

460 

2 & 3 

10 

i,oa^ 

26 

21 

481 

4 

7 

l,0oo 

27 

24 

505 

5 

20 

1,108 

28 

16 

521 

6 

34 

1,142 

Nueva  Helvetia. 

29 

15 

536 

24 

16 

1,158 

30 

17 

553 

25 

18 

1,176 

31 

18 

571 

26 

21 

1,197 

27 

42 

1,239 

1844. 

28 

17 

1,256 

Jan.  1 

20 

591 

j 

29 

8 

1,264 

2 

25 

616 

1 

April  1 

10 

1,274 

3 

7 

623 

3 

22 

1,296 

4 

7 

630 

4 

18 

1,314 

5 

. 2 

632 

5 

37 

1,351 

6 

15 

647 

Great  Boiling  spring. 

6 

15 

1,366 

9 

11 

658 

7 

50 

1,416 

10 

10 

668 

~ . 1 

8 

6 

1,422 

11 

10 

678 

*• 

9 

31 

1,453 

12 

6 

684 

Pyramid  lake. 

10 

40 

1,493 

13 

12 

696 

11 

24 

1,517 

14 

9 

705 

12 

15 

1,532 

15 

12 

717 

'v.*. 

13 

27 

1,559  j 

Pass  in  the  Sierra 

16 

18 

735 

• I 

‘ 

• 

1 I 

Nevada. 

17 

22 

757 

14 

32 

1,591 

18 

8 

765 

15 

32 

1,623 

19 

18 

783 

17 

39 

1,662 

20 

5 

788 

l’;  ; 

18 

3 

1,665 

21 

24 

812 

19 

15 

1,680 

22 

14 

826 

20 

33 

1,713 

Spanish  trail  at  Mo 

23 

25 

851 

hahve  river. 

24 

20 

871 

22 

20 

1,733 

25 

25 

896 

23 

33 

1,766 

27 

12 

908 

♦ 

24 

8 

1,774 

28 

12 

920 

25 

25 

1,799 

29 

7 

927 

27 

43 

1,842 

30 

11 

938 

28 

12 

1,854 

31 

26 

964 

29 

7 

1,861 

Feb.  2 

16 

980 

30 

24 

1,885 

3 

7 

987 

May  1 

15 

1,900 

4 

3 

990 

2 

12 

1,912 

7 

4 

994 

• 

3 

18 

1,930 

8 

1 

995 

, 

4 

57 

1,987 

10 

3 

998 

6 

18 

2,005 

Rio  Virgeru 

7-1 

tc. 

4. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

15 

16 

17 

19 

20 

21 

22 

23 

24 

25 

26 

27 

28 

29 

30 

31 

1 

2 

3 

5 

6 

7 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

18 


294 


Table  of  distances — Continued. 


Distance  from  j 
the  Dalles. 

|Localities. 

Date. 

Distance  travel- 
led each  day. 

Distance  from 
the  Dalles. 

Localities. 

Miles. 

1844. 

Miles. 

Miles. 

2,015 

June  21 

19 

2,898 

2,033 

22 

15 

2,913 

Bayou  Salade,  (South 

2,034 

Park.) 

2,058 

23 

36 

2,949 

2,070 

24 

21 

2,970 

2,084 

V egas  de  Santa  Clara. 

25 

21 

2,991 

2,099 

26 

11 

3,002 

2,120 

27 

10 

3,012 

2,137 

28 

21 

3,033 

2,154 

29 

30 

3,063 

Pueblo,  on  the  Ar- 

2,181 

kansas. 

2,203 

30 

37 

i 3,100 

2,^ 

July  1 

33 

1 3,133 

Bent’s  fort. 

2,257 

5 

20 

3,153 

2,269 

Sevier  river. 

6 

31 

! 3,184 

2,292 

* 

31 

3,215 

2,324 

8 

28 

j 3,243 

Head  water  of  Smoky 

2,333 

Utah  lake. 

Hill  fork  of  the 

2,355 

Kansas. 

2,380 

9 

27 

3,270 

2,405 

10 

28 

3,298 

2,436 

12 

24 

3,322 

2,452 

13 

30 

3,352 

2,468 

15 

10' 

3,362 

2,476 

16 

23 

3,385 

2,497 

Uintah  fort. 

17 

32 

3,417 

2,523 

18 

24  ' 

3,441 

2,538 

19 

1 29 

3,470 

2,568 

Green  river,  (Brown’s 

20 

L 29 

3,499 

hole. ) 

21 

23 

3,522 

2,604 

22 

17 

3,539 

2,634 

23 

26 

3,565 

2,664 

24 

22 

3,587 

2,690 

25 

19 

3,606 

2,716 

♦ 

26 

24 

3,630 

2,739 

27 

18 

3,648 

2,764 

New  Park. 

28 

22 

3,670 

2,790 

29 

12 

3,682 

2,823 

Old  Park. 

30 

12 

3,694 

2,836 

31 

8 

3,702 

Kansas  landing. 

2,852  | 

Aug.  1 

7 

3,709 

Missouri  river. 

2,879  | 

1 

♦ — 

295 


[ 174  ] 


APPENDIX. 


A. 


• GEOLOGICAL  FORMATIONS. 

Nature  of  the  geological  formations  occupying  the  portion  of  Oregon 
and  North  California  included  in  a geographical  survey  under  the 
direction  of  Captain  Fremont:  hy  James  Hall,  palaeontologist  to  the 
State  of  New  York. 

The  main  geographical  features  of  every  country,  as  well  as  its  soils  and 
vegetable  productions,  depend  upon  the  nature  of  its  geological  formations. 
So  universally  true  is  this,  that  a suite  of  the  rocks  prevailing  in  any  coun- 
try, with  their  mineral  and  fossil  contents,  will  convey  more  absolute  in- 
formation regarding  the  agricultural  and  other  capabilities  of  that  country, 
than  could  be  given  by  a volume  written  without  reference  to  these  sub- 
jects. Indeed,  no  survey  of  any  unknown  region  should  be  made  without 
at  the  same  time  preserving  collections  of  the  prevailing  rocks,  minerals, 
and  fossils.  The  attention  given  to  this  subject  in  the  foregoing  report  ren- 
ders the  information  of  the  highest  value,  and  perfectly  reliable  in  reference 
to  opinions  or  calculations  regarding  the  resources  of  the  country. 

The  specimens  examined  present  a great  variety  of  aspect  and  composi- 
tion; but  calcareous  rocks  prevail  over  a large  portion  of  the  country  trav- 
ersed between  longitude  98°  and  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river,  or  122° 
west  from  Greenwich.  That  portion  of  the  route  embraced  in  this  notice 
varies  in  latitude  through  seven  degrees,  viz:  38°  to  45°  north;  and  speci- 
mens are  presented  in  nearly  every  half  degree  of  latitude.  Such  a collec- 
tion enables  us  to  forma  very  satisfactory  conclusion  regarding  this  portion 
of  the  country,  7°  in  width  and  24°  in  length ; having  an  extent  east  and 
west  equal  to  the  distance  between  the  Atlantic  «oast  of  New  York  and 
the  Mississippi  river,  and  lying  in  the  temperate  latitudes,  which  extend 
from  Washington  city  to  the  northern  limit  of  the  State  of  New  York. 

Although  we  are  far  from  being  able  to  fix  the  minute  or  detailed  geol- 
ogy, this  collection  presents  us  with  sufficient  materials  to  form  some  prob- 
able conclusions  regarding  the  whole  region  from  this  side  of  the  Rocky 
mountains  westward  to  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia  river.  But  it  is  not 
within  my  province  to  dwell  upon  the  advantages  opened  to  us  in  the  vast 
field  which  the  researches  of  Captain  Fremont  have  made  known.  I there- 
fore proceed  to  a description  of  the  specimens  as  they  occur,  taking  them  in 
the  order  from  east  to  west.  This,  in  connexion  with  the  section  of  alti- 
tudes on  which  the  rocks  are  marked,  will  show  the  comparative  extent  of 
different  formations. 

Longitude  96i°,  latitude  38^°;  Otter  creek. — The  single  specimen  from 
this  locality  is  a yellowish,  impure  limestone,  apparently  containing  organic 
remains,  whose  structure  is  obliterated  by  crystallization.  From  its  posi- 


% 


296 


[ 174  ] 

tion  relatively  to  the  formations  farther  east,  I am  inclined  to  refer  it  to  the 
cretaceous  formation. 

Longitude  98°,  latitude  39°;  Smoky  Hill  river. — The  specimens  from  this 
locality  are  numbered  26, 29,  31,  33,  and  S8.  They  all  bear  a similar  char- 
acter, and  the  fossils  are  alike  in  each.  The  rock  is  an  impure  limestone, 
pretty  compact,  varying  in  color  from  dull  yellowish  to  ashy  brown,  and 
abounding  in  shells  of  a species  of  Inoceramus.  (See  description.) 

This  rock  probably  belongs  to  the  cretaceous  formation  ; the  lower  part 
of  which  has  been  indicated  by  Dr.  Morton  as  extending  into  Louisiana, 
Arkansas,  and  Missouri. 

Although  the  specimens  from  this  locality  bear  a more  close  resemblance 
lo  the  upper  part  of  the  formation,  I do  not  feel  justified  in  referring  them 
to  any  other  period.  This  formation  evidently  underlies  large  tracts  of 
country,  and  extends  far  towards  the  base  of  the  Rocky  mountains. 

Longitude  105°,  latitude  39°. — The  specimens  from  this  locality  area 
somewhat  porous,  light-colored  limestone,  tough  and  fine  grained.  One 
or  two  fragments  of  fossils  from  this  locality  still  indicate  the  cretaceous 
period;  but  the  absence  of  any  perfect  specimens  must  deter  a positive 
opinion  upon  the  precise  age  of  the  formation.  One  specimen,  however, 
from  its  form,  markings,  and  fibrous  structure,  I have  referred  to  the  genus 
inoceramus. 

It  is  evident,  from  the  facts  presented,  that  little  of  important  geological 
change  is  observed  in  travelling  over  this  distance  of  7 degrees  of  longi- 
tude. Rut  at  what  depths  beneath  the  surface  the  country  is  underlaid  by 
this  formation,  I have  no  data  for  deciding.  Its  importance,  however,  must 
not  be  overlooked.  A calcareous  formation  of  this  extent  is  of  the  greatest 
advantage  to  a country;  and  the  economical  facilities  hence  afforded  in 
agriculture,  and  the  uses  of  civilized  life,  cannot  be  overstated. 

The  whole  formation  of  this  region  is  probably,  with  some  variations, 
an  extension  of  that  which  prevails  through  Louisiana,  Arkansas,  and 
Missouri. 

The  strata  at  the  locality  last  mentioned  are  represented  as  being  verti- 
cal, standing  against  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky  mountain*,  immediately 
below  Pike’s  Peak. 

Longitude  106°,  latitude  41°. — At  this  point,  although  only  one  degree 
west  of  the  last-named  specimens,  we  find  a total  change  in  the  geology 
of  the  region.  The  specimens  are  of  a red  feldspathic  granite,  showing  a 
tendency  to  decomposition;  and,  from  the  information  accompanying  tile 
same,  this  rock  overlies  a mass  of  similar  granite,  in  more  advanced  stages 
of  decomposition.  The  specimens  present  nothing  peculiar  in  their  ap- 
pearance; and  the  only  apparent  difference  between  these  and  the  ordinary 
red  feldspathic  granites  of  more  eastern  localities,  is  their  finer  grain  and 
dingy  color. 

Longitude  107°,  latitude  41  %°. — The  specimens  from  this  locality  are  of 
crystalline  feldspathic  granite,  of  a flesh-red  color,  apparently  not  acted  on 
by  the  weather,  and  presenting  the  common  appearance  of  this  kind  of  / 
granite  in  other  localities. 

No.  95,  “ above  the  third  bed  of  coal,  in  the  lower  hill,  North  fork  of  the 
Platte  river,”  is  a siliceous  clay  slate,  having  a saline  taste. 

Longitude  110°,  latitude  41p;  Nos.  99  and  104. — No.  99  is  a fine- 
grained, soft,  argillaceous  limestone,  of  a light  ash  color,  evidently  a modern 
formation ; but,  from  the  absence  of  fossils,  it  would  be  unsatisfactory  to 


297 


[ 174  ] 

assign  it  any  place  in  the  scale  of  formations.  The  other  specimen,  No. 
104,  is  a compact  serpentine,  having  the  aspect  of  a greenstone  trap  ; and, 
from  the  account  given,  is  probably  interstratified  with  the  limestone.  The 
limestone  is  more  friable  and  chalky  than  any  specimen  previously  noticed. 

Longitude  1 10^°,  latitude  41|°. — The  specimens  from  this  locality  are 
very  peculiar  and  remarkable.  The  first  is  a friable  or  pulverulent  green 
calcareous  sand,  unctuous  to  the  touch,  but  remaining  unaltered  on  exposure 
to  the  atmosphere.  Its  character  is  very  similar  to  the  green  sands  of  New 
Jersey ; but  it  is  of  a brighter  color,  and  less  charged  with  iron.  The 
second  specimen  is  of  similar  composition,  but  quite  solid — being,  in  fact,  a 
green  limestone.  The  singularity  of  the  specimen,  and  that  which  first 
attracted  my  attention,  was  the  efflorescence  of  a salt  upon  its  surface, 
which  appears  to  be,  in  part,  chloride  of  sodium.  Supposing  this  to  be  ac- 
cidental, I broke  a specimen,  and,  after  a day  or  two,  a similar  efflorescence 
appeared  from  the  fresh  fracture  ; leaving  no  doubt  but  the  salts  arise  from 
decomposition  of  substances  within  the  stone  itself. 

Longitude  111°,  latitude  41^°;  Muddy  river . — These  specimens  are  of  a 
yellowish-gray  oolitic  limestone,  containing  turbo,  cerithium,  &c.  The 
rock  is  a perfect  oolite  ; and,  both  in  color  and  texture,  can  scarcely  be  dis- 
tinguished from  specimens  of  the  Bath  oolite.  One  of  the  specimens  is 
quite  crystalline,  and  the  oolitic  structure  somewhat  obscure.  In  this  in- 
stance, the  few  fossils  observed  seem  hardly  sufficient  to  draw  a decisive 
conclusion  regarding  the  age  of  the  formation  ; but,  when  taken  in  connex- 
ion with  the  oolitic  structure  of  the  mass,  its  correspondence  with  the  Eng- 
lish oolites,  and  the  modern  aspect  of  the  whole,  there  remains  less  doubt 
of  the  propriety  of  referring  it  to  the  oolitic  period.  A further  collection 
I from  this  interesting  locality  would  doubtless  develop  a series  of  fossils, 
which  would  forever  settle  the  question  of  the  relative  age  .of  the  formation. 

A few  miles  up  this  stream,  Captain  Fremont  has  collected  a beautiful 
series  of  specimens  of  fossil  ferns.  The  rock  is  an  indurated  clay,  wholly 
destitute  of  carbonate  of  lime,  and  would  be  termed  a u fire  clay.”  These 
are  probably,  geologically  as  well  as  geographically,  higher  than  the  oolite 
| specimens,  as  the  rocks  at  this  place  were  observed  to  dip  in  the  direction 
of  N.  65°  W.  at  an  angle  of  20  degrees.  This  would  show,  conclusively, 
that  the  vegetable  remains  occupy  a higher  position  than  the  oolite.  As- 
I sociated  with  these  vegetable  remains,  were  found  several  beds  of  coal,  dif- 
fering in  thickness.  The  section  of  strata  at  this  place  is  as  follows  : 


tit.  in. 

Sandstone  - - - - - - - -10 

Coal  - - - - - - 1 $ 

Coal  - - - - - - - 1 3 

Indurated  clay,  with  vegetable  remains  - - - - 20  0 

Clay  - - - - - - - - 50 

Coal  -------- 

Clay  - - - - - - - 50 

Coal  -------- 

Clay  * - - - - - - - 5 0 

Coal  ------- 


The  stratum  containing  the  fossil  ferns  is  about  20  feet  thick ; and  above* 
it  are  two  beds  of  coal,  each  about  15  inches.  These  are  succeeded  by  a 


'298 


[ 174  ] 

bed  of  sandstone.  Below  the  bed  containing  the  ferns,  there  are  three  dis- 
tinct beds  of  coal,  each  separated  by  about  5 feet  of  clay.  Before  examin- 
ing the  oolitic  specimens  just  mentioned,  I compared  these  fossil  ferns  with 
a large  collection  from  the  coal  measures  of  Pennsylvania  and  Ohio,  and  it 
was  quite  evident  that  this  formation  could  not  be  of  the  same  age.  There 
are  several  specimens  which  I can  only  refer  to  the  Glossopteris  Phillipsii, 
(see  description,)  an  oolitic  fossil ; and  this  alone,  with  the  general  charac- 
ter of  the  other  species,  and  the  absence  of  the  large  stems  so  common  in 
the  coal  period,  had  led  me  to  refer  them  to  the  ooTitic  period.  1 conceive, 
however,  that  we  have  scarcely  sufficient  evidence  to  justify  this  reference; 
and  though  among  the  fossil  shells  there  are  none  decidedly  typical  of  the 
oolite,  yet  neither  are  they  so  of  any  other  formation;  and  the  lithological 
character  of  the  mass  is  not  reliable  evidence.  Still,  viewed  in  whatever 
light  we  please,  these  fossil  ferns  must,  I conceive,  be  regarded  as  mostly 
of  new  species,  and  in  this  respect  form  a very  important  addition  to  the 
flora  of  the  more  modern  geological  periods. 

In  passing  from  this  locality  westward  to  the  Bear  river,  Captain  Fremont 
crossed  a high  mountain  chain,  which  is  the  dividing  ridge  between  the 
waters  of  Muddy  river  flowing  eastward,  and  those  of  Muddy  cfreek  flow- 
ing into  Bear  river  on  the  west.  The  gap  where  the  ridge  was  crossed  is 
stated  to  be  Ss200  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  In  this  ridge,  115  miles 
to  the  southward  of  the  locality  of  the  fossils  last  mentioned,  were  collected 
the  specimens  next  to  be  named.  These  were  obtained  near  the  summit 
of  the  ridge,  and  probably  higher  than  the  point  where  Captain  Fremont’s 
party  crossed. 

The  collection  from  this  locality  (longitude  1 11°,  latitude  40°)  consists 
of  several  specimens  of  an  argillaceous,  highly  bituminous,  and  somewhat 
slaty  limestone,  .loaded  with  fossils.  It  is  very  brittle,  and  easily  shivered 
into  small  fragments  by  a blow  of  the  hammer.  Its  natural  color  is  a light 
sepia,  but  it  bleaches  on  exposure  to  the  atmosphere.  In  structure,  it  is  not 
unlike  some  of  the  limestones  of  the  lias  or  oolite  formations.  The  fossils 
are  chiefly  one  species  of  Cerithium  and  one  of  Mya ; and  besides  these, 
another  species  of  Cerithium  and  a Nucula  can  be  identified.  So  far  as  I 
am  able  to  ascertain,  these  fossils  are  undescribed,  and  will  therefore  be 
regarded  as  new  species. 

It  may  be  considered  premature  to  decide  upon  the  geological  position  of 
this  mass.  It  may  belong  to  the  same  period,  though  far  higher  in  the 
series  than  those  in  the  same  longitude,  which  have  just  been  described. 
In  the  locality  of  the  fossil  plants,  the  strata  dip  W.  by  N. ; but,  from  the 
structure  of  the  country,  it  is  evident  that  there  is  a change  in  the  direction 
of  the  dip  before  reaching  the  high  ridge  from  which  the  specimens  under 
consideration  were  taken.  Further  examination,  I have  no  doubt,  will  set 
this  question  at  rest. 

I may  here  notice  the  interesting  fact  of  the  wide  extent  of  these  forma- 
tions, showing  the  existence,  in  this  longitude,  of  these  calcareous  beds, of 
a nature  precisely  like  those  of  the  modern  formations  of  western  Europe. 

A few  miles  south  of  the  locality  of  these  fossils,  Captain  Fremont  de- 
scribes the  occurrence  of  an  immense  stratum  of  fossil  salt ; and  the  same 
ridge  is  represented  as  bounding  the  Great  Salt  lake.  There  would  there- 
fore seem  no  doubt  that  the  salt  in  question  is  associated  with  the  strata  of 
this  period,  and  probably  coeval  with  the  same. 

I may  remark,  in  the  same  connexion,  that  the  surfaces  of  the  specimens 


209 


[ m ] 

containing  the  fossil  ferns  also  effloresce  a salt,  which  is  apparently  chlo' 
ride  of  sodium.  This  fact  seems  to  indicate  the  presence  of  fossil  salt  at 
this  distance  north  of  the  known  locality,  and  is  a circumstance  which  we 
naturally  appropriate  as  part  of  the  evidence  of  identity  in  the  age  of  the 
formations. 

This  region  is  unquestionably  one  of  the  highest  interest,  both  as  regards 
its  economical  resources,  and  equally  so  in  the  contributions  which  it  will 
yield  to  geological  science.  In  the  specimens  from  the  vegetable  locality, 

I have  been  able  to  indicate  seven  or  eight  species  of  fossil  ferns,  most  of 
which  are  new.  Further  researches  will  doubtless  greatly  multiply  this 
number.  Besides  these,  as  new  species  probably  peculiar  to  our  continent, 
they  have  a higher  interest,  inasmuch  as  they  show  to  us  the  wide  extent 
and  the  nature  of  the  vegetation  of  this  modern  coal  period.  In  the  broad 
fields  of  the  west,  we  shall  have  an  opportunity  of  tracing  it  over  large  and 
unbroken  areas,  and  many  highly  interesting  results  may  follow  its  com- 
parison with  the  vegetation  of  the  true  carboniferous  period. 

Again  : since  these  deposites  have  evidently  been  made  over  large  tracts 
of  country,  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that  the  quantity  of  materials 
accumulated  will  be  very  great,  and  that  we  may  expect  to  find  profitable 
coal  beds  in  the  rocks  of  this  age.  This  subject,  besides  being  of  high 
interest  to  science,  is  of  some  prospective  economical  importance,  though 
perhaps  too  remote  to  dwell  upon,  while  the  country  remains  so  little  ex- 
plored as  at  present. 

Longitude  112°,  latitude  42°. — The  specimen  No.  72  is  a grayish-blue 
limestone,  efflorescing  a salt  upon- the  surface,  “from  the  Hot  Salt  Springs 
of  September  13,  1843.”  No.  108  is  a siliceous  limestone  of  a brownish- 
gray  color ; where  exposed,  the  surface  becomes  porous,  from  the  solution 
and  removal  of  the  lime,  while  the  siliceous  particles  remain.  From  the 
general  lithological  characters  of  the  specimen,  it  is  probably  a modern 
rock,  but  its  precise  age  cannot  be  decided. 

Longitude  1 12°,  latitude  41i°. — The  single  specimen  from  this  locality 
is,  in  its  present  state,  “ granular  quartz. ” It  is,  however,  very  evidently, 
an  altered  sedimentary  rock,  with  the  lines  of  deposition  quite  distinctly 
preserved.  This  rock  probably  comes  out  from  under  the  siliceous  lime- 
stone last  described,  both  having  been  altered  by  modern  igneous  action. 
The  character  of  the  specimens  from  the  next  locality — three-quarters  of 
a degree  farther  west — may  perhaps  throw  some  light  upon  the  present 
condition  of  those  last  named. 

Longitude  1121°,  latitude  42|°  ; at  the  American  Falls  of  Snake  river. — 
The  collection  from  this  point  presents  the  following,  in  a descending  order. 
These  specimens  are  numbered  94,  96,  97,  101,  102,  106,  and  107  : 

1.  A botryoidal  or  concretionary  lava,  No.  94. 

2.  Obsidian,  No.  102. 

3.  Vitrified  sandstone,  No.  106. 

4.  A whitish  ash-colored  chalk  or  limestone,  No.  107. 

5.  A light  ashy  volcanic  sand,  No.  97. 

6.  Brown  sand,  volcanic.  (?) 

These  are  all  apparently  volcanic  products,  with,  probably,  the  excep- 
tion of  Nos.  106  and  107,  which  may  be  sedimentary  products;  the  first 
altered  by  heat.  The  two  lower  deposites  are  evidently  volcanic  sand  or 
“ashes;”*  the  upper  of  these,  or  No.  5,  has  all  the  characters  of  pulverized 
pumice  stone,  and  is  doubtless  of  similar  origin. 


300 


[ 174  ] 

No.  107  is  an  impure  limestone,  but  little  harder  than  common  chalk; 
and,  but  for  its  associations,  would  be  regarded  as  of  similar  origin.* 

No.  106  is  apparently  a vitrified  sandstone,  the  grains  all  rounded,  and 
the  surfaces  of  the  mass  highly  polished. 

No.  102  is  a beautiful  black  obsidian. 

No.  94  is  a mammillary  or  botryoidal  lava  ; the  concretions  having  a ra-  j 
diated  structure,  the  mass  is  easily  frangible,  and  readily  separates  into  small 
angular  fragments. 

The  whole  of  this  series,  with  the  exception  of  No.  107,  may  be  regard- 
ed as  of  volcanic  origin ; for  the  apparently  vitrified  sandstone  may  be,  in 
its  composition,  not  very  distinct  from  trap  or  basalt,  though  it  is  more  vit- 
reous, and  its  fracture  fresher  and  brighter. 

Longitude  1 14^°,  latitude  42^°. — The  specimens  marked  No.  3 are  of 
light-colored  tufaceous  limestone  and  siliceous  limestone.  The  speci- 
mens appear  as  if  from  some  regular  formation,  broken  up  and  thinly  coat- 
ed by  calcareous  matter  from  springs.  From  the  fact  observed  by  Captain 
Fremont,  that  these  fragments  enter  largely  into  the  composition  of  the  soil, 
we  may  presume  that  the  same  is  highly  calcareous. 

The  specimen  No.  12,  from  the  same  locality, ^consists  mainly  of  small 
fragments  of  the  crust,  claws,  &c.,  of  some  crustacean — probably  of  fresh- 
water origin.  There  are  also  some  vertebrae  and  ribs  of  fishes.  The 
whole  is  so  unchanged,  and  of  such  recent  appearance,  as  to  induce  a belief 
that  the  deposite  is  of  fresh-water  origin,  and  due  to  the  desiccation  of  some  I 
lake  or  stream.  Should  such  a deposite  be  extensive,  its  prospective  value  j 
to  an  agricultural  community  will  be  an  important  consideration.  But,  as 
before  remarked,  there  is  evidently  a preponderance  of  calcareous  matter 
throughout  the  whole  extent  of  country  traversed. 

Longitude  115°,  latitude  43°. — The  specimens  from  this  locality  are  num-  j 
bered  16,  21,  and  39.  Nos.  16  and  21  are  angular  fragments  of  impure 
limestone  of  some  recent  geological  period,  and  No.  39  consists  of  an  ag- 
gregation of  pebbles  and  gravel.  The  pebbles  are  of  black  siliceous  slate, 
which  are  represented  as  forming  a conglomerate  with  the  limestone  frag- 
ments just  mentioned.  The  limestone  specimens  are  probably  broken  frag-  I 
ments  from  some  stratum  in  situ  in  the  same  vicinity,  and  the  conglom- 
erate is  one  of  very  recent  formation.  The  slate  pebbles  are  from  a rock 
of  much  older  date,  and  worn  very  round  and  smooth,  while  the  limestone 
bears  little  evidence  of  attrition. 

The  gray  siliceous  limestone  specimens  contain  a species  of  Turritella, 
and  a small  bivalve  shell.  (See  descriptions  and  figures.) 

Longitude  1 15£°,  latitude  43^°. — The  two  specimens  from  this  locality  are 
of  volcanic  origin.  No.  46  is  a reddish  compact  trap  or  lava,  with  small 
nodules  or  cavities  filled  with  analcime  and  stilbite.  No.  52  is  a coarse 
and  porous  trap,  or  ancient  lava. 

Longitude  1 16°,  latitude  43£°. — The  single  specimen  from  this  place  is 


* Since  this  was  written,  a specimen  of  No.  107  has  been  submitted  to  the  examination  of  Pro- 
fessor Bailey,  who  finds  it  highly  charged  with  “calcareous  polythalamia”  in  excellent  preserva- 
tion. He  remarks,  that  “ the  forms  are,  many  of  them,  such  as  are  common  in  chalk  and  cretaceous 
marls;  but  as  these  forms  are  still  living  in  our  present  oceans,  their  presence  does  not  afford  con- 
clusive evidence  as  to  the  age  of  the  deposite  in  which  they  occur.  I have,  however,  invariably 
found  that  in  our  tertiary  deposites,  the  chalk  polythalamia  are  accompanied  by  large  species  of 
genera  peculiar  to  the  tertiary.  Now,  as  these  are  entirely  wanting  in  the  specimen  from  Captain 
Fremont,  the  evidence,  as  far  as  it  goes , is  in  favor  of  the  view  that  the  specimen  came  from  a 
cretaceous  formation.” 


301 


[ 174  ] 

a white  feldspathic  granite,  with  a small  proportion  of  quartz,  and  black 
mica  in  small  scales.  The  specimen  contains  a single  garnet.  The  struc- 
ture is  somewhat  slaty,  and  from  appearances  it  is  rapidly  destructible 
from  atmospheric  agency. 

Longitude  117°,  latitude  44£°. — These  specimens  from  Brule  river  are 
numbered  4,  19,  41,  and  48. 

No.  4 is  a slaty  limestone,  partially  altered,  probably  from  the  proximity 
of  igneous  rocks. 

No.  41  is  of  similar  character,  very  thinly  laminated,  and  of  a dark 
color. 

No.  19  is  of  similar  character,  but  more  altered,  and  partially  crystalline. 
The  lines  of  deposition  are,  however,  preserved. 

No..  48  has  the  appearance  of  a compact  gray  feldspathic  lava  ; but  there 
are  some  apparent  lines  of  deposition  still  visible,  which  incline  me  to  the 
opinion  that  it  is  an  altered  sedimentary  rock. 

Longitude  117^°,  latitude  45°. — The  specimen  is  a compact,  dark-colored 
basalt,  showing  a tendency  to  desquamate  upon  the  exposed  surfaces. 
This  rock  forms  the  mountains  of  Brule  river. 

Longitude  117^°,  latitude  455°. — The  specimen  No.  110  is  a fine-grained 
basalt  or  trap,  with  a few  small  cells  filled  with  analcime.  This  is  of  the 
rock  forming  the  Blue  mountain. 

Longitude  1 IS0,  latitude  45°. — The  single  specimen  (No.  43)  from  this 
locality  is  apparently  an  altered  siliceous  slate.  It  is  marked  by  what  ap- 
pear to  be  lines  of  deposition,  the  thin  laminae  being  separated  by  layers  of 
mica. 

Longitude  119°,  latitude  3S£°. — The  specimens  Nos.  14,23,  45,  and  51, 
are  all  from  this  locality. 

No.  14  appears  to  be  a decomposed  feldspar,  having  a slightly  porous 
structure  ; it  is  very  light,  and  adheres  strongly  to  the  tongue. 

No.  23.  A friable,  argillaceous  sandstone,  somewhat  porous  upon  the  ex- 
posed surfaces. 

No.  45.  A compact  lava  of  a sienitic  structure,  containing  obsidian. 
This  specimen  appears  much  like  some  of  the  porous  portions  of  trap  dikes 
which  cut  through  the  sienitic  rocks  of  New  England. 

No.  51.  Feldspar,  with  a little  black  mica.  The  specimen  is  probably 
from  a granite  rock,  though  its  structure  is  that  of  compact  feldspar. 

Longitude  120°,  latitude  45^°. — The  single  specimen  (No.  20)  from  this 
locality  is  a compact,  fine-grained  trap,  or  basalt,  with  a few  round  cavities 
of  the  size  of  peas. 

Longitude  120£°,  latitude  38£°. — The  specimens  are  numbered  91,  109, 
and  117. 

No.  91  has  the  appearance  of  a porous  trap,  or  basalt,  though  possibly 
the  production  of  a modern  volcano.  It  is  thickly  spotted  with  crystals  of 
analcime,  some  apparently  segregated  from  the  mass,  and  others  filling  ve- 
sicular cavities. 

No.  1 17  is  a compact  basalt,  the  specimen  exhibiting  the  character  of  the 
basalt  of  the  Hudson  and  Connecticut  river  valleys. 

No.  109  is  a fine-grained  granite,  consisting  of  white  quartz  and  feldspar, 
with  black  mica.  Captain  Fremont  remarks  that  this  rock  forms  the  east- 
ern part  of  the  main  California  mountain.  From  its  granular  and  rather 
loose  structure,  it  is  to  be  inferred  that  it  would  undergo  rapid  decomposi- 
tion in  a climate  like  ours. 


302 


[ 174  ] 

Longitude  121°,  latitude  44£°. — The  specimens  from  this  locality  are 
numbered  53,  54,  55,56,  57,  58,  59,  60,  and  61.  These  are  characteristic 
specimens  of  the  strata  composing  a bluff  700  feet  high,  and  are  numbered 
in  the  descending  order. 

The  specimens  59,  60,  and  61,  are  three  specimens  of  what  appear  to  be 
very  fine  clay,  perfectly  free  from  carbonate  of  lime,  and  nearly  as  white  as 
ordinary  chalk.  These  three  specimens,  which  are  understood  to  be  from 
three  distinct  strata,  vary  but  slightly  in  their  characters — No.  61  being  of 
the  lightest  color. 

No.  58  is  a specimen  of  grayish  volcanic  breccia,  the  larger  portion  con- 
sisting of  volcanic  sand  or  ashes. 

Nos.  55,  56,  and  57,  are  of  the  same  character,  being,  however,  nearly 
free  from  fragments  or  pebbles,  and  composed  of  light  volcanic  sand,  or 
scoria,  with  an  apparently  large  admixture  of  clay  from  the  strata  below. 
The  whole  is  not  acted  on  by  acids,  and,  so  far  as  can  be  judged,  is  of 
volcanic  origin. 

No.  58  is  of  similar  character  to  the  preceding  three  specimens,  but  con- 
tains more  fragments,  and  has  a generally  coarser  aspect.* 

Longitude  121°,  latitude  45°. — These  specimens  are  numbered  7,  35,40, 
47,  and  49. 

No.  7 is  a siliceous  sinter,  coated  externally  with  hydrate  of  iron. 

* The  specimens  Nos.  59,  60,  and  61,  which  are  from  three  different  but  contiguous  strata, 
have  since  been  examined  by  Professor  J.  W.  Bailey,  of  West  Point,  who  finds  them  charged 
with  fluviatile  infusoria  of  remarkable  forms. 

Below  are  descriptions  (accompanied  by  a plate)  of  some  of  the  most  interesting  forms,  which 
were  sketched  by,  him  with  a camera-lucida  attached  to  his  microscope.  It  has  not  been  considered 
necessary  to  distinguish*,  particularly,  to  which  of  the  strata  the  individuals  figured  belong,  as  no 
species  occur  in  one,  which  are  not  present  in  the  others.  They  are  evidently  deposites  of  the 
same  epoch,  and  differ  very  slightly  in  their  characters. 

Figs.  1,  2,  and  3.  Side  views  of  Eunotia  librile  of  Ehrenberg. — The  species  is  figured  and 
described  by  Ehrenberg,  who  received  it  from  Real  del  Monte,  Mexico.  It  resembles  Eunotia 
Westermanniy  (Ehr.,)  but  differs  in  its  granulations.  The  three  figures  are  from  individuals  of 
different  age. 

Figs.  4 and  5.  Eunotia  gibba,  (Ehr.) — Identical  with  a common  fresh-water  species  now  living 
at  West  Point. 

Fig.  6.  Pinnularia  pachyptera  ? (Ehr.) — Ehrenberg's  figure  of  P.  pachyptera  from  Labrador 
is  very  similar  to  the  Oregon  species  here  represented. 

Figs.  7,  8,  and  9.  Cocconema  cymbi forme?  (Ehr.) — These  are  probably  merely  varieties  of 
the  same  species.  Fig.  8 is  rather  larger  than  C.  cymbiforme  usually  grows  at  West  Point. 

Fig.  10.  Gomphonema  clavatum?  (Ehr.) — Front  view. 

Fig.  11.  Gomphonema  clavatum?  (Ehr.) — Side  view- 

Fig.  12.  Gomphonema  minutissimum,  (Ehr.) — A cosmopolite  species. 

Fig.  13.  Gallionella  ( new  species,  a.) — This  is  evidently  identical  with  a large  species  which 
I have  described  and  figured  as  occurring  at  Dana’s  locality.  (See  Silliman’s  Journal  for  April, 
1845.) 

Figs.  14  and  15,  Gallionella,  new  species?  6 (a — edge  view;  b — side  view.) — This  species 
presents  remarkably  compressed  frustules,  which  are  marked  on  their  circular  bases  with  radiant 
lines.  It  is  particularly  abundant  in  Nos.  59  and  61. 

Fig.  16.  Gallionella  distans  ? — This  very  minute  species  constitutes  the  chief  mass  of  No.  60, 
but  also  abounds  in  Nos.  59  and  61. 

Figs.  17  and  18.  Cocconeis  prxtexta,  (Ehr.) — Appears  to  agree  with  a species  from  Mexico 
figured  by  Ehrenberg. 

Fig.  19.  Fragillaria . 

Fig.  20.  Surirella . — A fragment  only.  I have  seen  several  fragments  of  beautiful 

Surirellae,  but  have  not  yet  found  a perfect  specimen  to  figure. 

Fig.  21.  Fragillaria  rhabdosoma? — Fragment. 

Figs.  22  and  23.  Spicu/ae  of  fresh-water  sponges.— ^Spongilla. 

Fig.  24.  Four-sided  crystal  of ? 

Fig.  25.  Scale  — 10-100ths  of  millimetre  magnified  equally  with  the  drawings. 


PL  V 


303  [ 174  ] 

No.  35.  A reddish,  rather  compact  lava.  The  color  is  owing  to  the 
presence  of  iron,  which  hastens  its  decomposition  on  exposure. 

No.  40.  A reddish  brecciated  feldspathic  lava,  embracing  fragments  of 
light-colored  siliceous  sandstone  or  lava. 

No.  47.  Compact  trap,  or  basalt,  with  a few  rounded  cavities.  This 
specimen  is  precisely  like  No.  20,  longitude  120°;  and,  from  the  descrip- 
tion given,  appears  to  be  a prevailing  rock  along  the  valley  of  the  Colum- 
bia river. 

No.  49.  An  imperfect  striped  agate,  with  the  centre  of  siliceous  sinter. 
This,  with  Nos.  7 and  40,  is  doubtless  associated  with  the  basalt,  No.  47, 
which  is  the  prevailing  rock. 

Longitude  122°,  latitude  45^°;  Cascades  of  the  Columbia  river. — From 
this  place  are  the  specimens  numbered  9,  10,  13,  17,  18,  22,  24,  25,  27,  30, 
36,  37,  3S,  and  44. 

Of  these  specimens,  Nos.  13  and  24  are  indurated  clay,  with  impres- 
sions of  leaves  of  dicotyledonous  plants. 

No.  1 7 is  a fine  argillaceous  sandstone,  with  stems  and  leaves,  which  still 
retain  their  fibrous  structure. 

No.  30  is  a specimen  of  dicotyledonous  wood,  partially  replaced  by  stony 
matter,  and  a portion  still  retaining  the  fibrous  structure  and  consistency 
of  partially  carbonized  wood. 

Nos.  10,  25,  27,  and  38,  are  specimens  of  coal  from  the  same  locality. 
(For  further  information  of  these,  see  analysis  of  specimens  appended.) 

No.  22.  Carbonaceous  earth,  with  pebbles,  evidently  a part  of  the  forma- 
tion to  which  the  previous  specimens  are  referred. 

No.  18  is  a compact  trap,  apparently  having  a stratified  structure. 

No.  36.  A porous  basaltic  lava,  with  crystals  of  analcime,  &c. 

No.  37.  Two  specimens — one  a porous  or  rather  scoriaceous  lava  of  a 
reddish  color;  and  the  other  a compact  gray  lava,  with  a few  small  cavities. 

No.  44.  A brown  scoriaceous  lava. 

No.  44 a.  A small  specimen  of  compact  lava. 

Miscellaneous  specimens. 

No.  62.  A coral  in  soft  limestone ; the  structure  too  much  obliterated  to 
decide  its  character.  (From  the  dividing  ridge  between  Bear  creek  and 
Bear  river,  at  a point  8,200  feet  above  tide  water.) 

No.  71.  Calcareous  tufa,  containing  the  remains  of  grasses,  twigs,  moss, 
&c. 

No.  81.  Calcareous  tufa  stained  with  iron. 

No.  98.  Ferruginous  calcareous  tufa,  containing  remains  of  twigs,  &c. 

These  three  last-named  specimens  are  evidently  the  calcareous  deposites 
from  springs  holding  carbonate  of  lime  in  solution. 


[ ‘74  ] 


304 


I 


B. 

ORGANIC  REMAINS. 

Descriptions  of  organic  remains  collected  by  Captain  J.  C.  Fremont , in 

the  geographical  survey  of  Oregon  and  North  California  : by  James 

Hall,  palaeontologist  to  the  State  of  New  York. 

Plates  I and  II. 

Fossil  ferns,  etc. 

The  specimens  here  described  are  all  from  one  locality,  in  longitude  1110, 
latitude  4H0.  They  occur  in  a light-gray  indurated  clay,  which  isentirely 
free  from  calcareous  matter,  very  brittle,  and  having  a very  imperfect  slaty 
structure.  Nearly  all  the  species  differ  from  any  described  in  Brongniart’s 
uHist.  Feg.  Foss.”  in  Goppert’s  uSy  sterna  Filicum  Fossiliitm,”  or  in  Phil- 
lips’s “ Geology  of  Yorkshire .” 

1.  Sphenopteris  Fremonti.  PI.  2,  figs.  3,  3 a.  (No.  118  of  collection.) 
Compare  sphenopteris  crenulata ; Brong.  Hist.  Veg.  Foss.  i,p.  187,  t.  56,  f.  3. 

Description. — Frond  bipinnate,  (or  tripinnate  ?)  rachis  moderately  strong, 
striated  ; pinnae  oblique  to  the  rachis,  rigid,  moderately  approximate,  alter- 
nate ; pinnules  subovate,  somewhat  decurrent  at  the  base,  about  three  or 
four  lobed ; fructification  very  distinct  in  round  dots  (capsules)  of  carbona- 
ceous matter  upon  the  margins  of  the  pinnules.  3 a,  a portion  twice  mag-  j 
nified. 

I have  named  this  beautiful  and  unique  species  in  honor  of  Captain  Fre- 
mont, and  as  a testimony  of  the  benefits  that  science  has  derived  from  his 
valuable  explorations  on  the  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains. 

2.  Sphenopteris  triloba.  PI.  1,  fig.  8.  (Nos.  65,  79,  and  80,  of  collec- 
tion.) 

Description. — Frond  bipinnate,  or  tripinnate;  rachis  slender,  flexuous; 
pinnae  long,  flexuous,  distant,  opposite,  perpendicular  to  the  rachis;  pin- 
nules oblong,  sub-trilobate,  opposite  or  alternate,  narrow  at  base,  distant, 
perpendicular. 

The  distant,  long,  and  flexuous  pinna3,  with  the  small  trilobate  pinnules, 
distinguish  this  species.  In  general  features,  it  approaches  somewhat  the 
sphenopteris  rigida , (Brong.,)  but  differs  essentially  in  the  smaller  pinnules, 
which  are  usually  nearly  opposite,  and  in  never  being  more  than  sub-trilo- 
bate, while  in  S.  rigida  they  are  often  deeply  5 -lobed. 

3.  Sphenopteris  (?)  paucifolia  PI.  2,  figs.  1,  l a,  1 b,  1 c,  I d.  (No. 
118  of  collection.) 

Description. — Frond  tripinnate  ; rachis  rather  slender,  with  long,  lateral, 
straight  branches,  which  are  slightly  oblique  ; pinnae  slender,  nearly  at  right 
angles,  alternate  and  opposite  ; pinnules  minute,  oval-ovate,  somewhat  dis- 
tant, opposite  or  alternate,  expanded  or  attenuate  at  base,  sometimes  deeply 
bilobed  or  digitate;  midrib  not  apparent. 

This  species  was  evidently  a beautiful  fern  of  large  size,  with  slender, 
sparse  foliage,  giving  it  a peculiarly  delicate  appearance.  In  some  of  its 
varieties,  (as  figure  1 by)  it  resembles  Sphenopteris  digitata;  Phillips’s  Geol.  . 


a 


FO  S SIL  PERNS  PL  J 

COLLECT!  ON  OF  THE  GEOGRAPHICAL  SURVEY  OF 

OREGON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA 


T i th  7m/  T Wphrr  dc  Cn  Balt1 


305 


[ m 2 

Yorkshire,  p.  147,  pi.  8,  figs.  6 and  7 ; Sphen.  Williamsoni , Brong.  Hist. 
Veg.  Foss.,  i,  p.  177,  t.  49,  figs.  6,  7,  and  8.  The  fossil  under  consideration, 
however,  is  quite  a different  species.  In  the  figure  1 a , the  branches  and 
pinnules  are  more  lax ; figure  1 d is  a magnified  portion. 

In  its  general  aspect,  this  fossil  resembles  the  genus  PacJiypteris,  to 
which  I had  been  inclined  to  refer  it,  but  for  the  digitate  character  of  the 
pinnules  manifested  by  some  specimens. 

4.  Sphenopteris  (?)  trifoltata,  PL  2,  figs.  2, 2 a.  (No.  S6  of  collection.) 

Description. — Frond  bipinnate  ; pinnae  trifoliate  ; pinnules  elliptic,  nar- 
rowing at  the  base;  rachis  slender, fiexuous;  fructification  terminal, raceme- 
like, from  the  pinnules  gradually  becoming  single  and  fructiferous. 

Fig.  2 a — part  of  the  fructiferous  portion  enlarged,  showing  the  capsules.,, 
apparently  immersed  in  the  thickened  pinnule.  This  is  a most  beautiful 
and  graceful  species,  approaching  in  some  respects  to  the  S.  paucifolia  just 
described. 

5.  Glossopteris  Phillipsii  ? PI.  2,  figs.  5,  5 a,  5 b,  5 c.  (Nos.  69,  82, 
and  86,  of  the  collection.)  Compare  Glossopteris  Phillipsii , Brong.  Hist. 
Veg.  Foss.,  p.  225,  t.  61  bis,  fig.  2 ; Pecopteris  paucifolia , Phillips’s  Geol. 
Yorkshire,  p.  119,  pi.  viii,  fig.  8. 

Description. — “ Leaves  linear-lanceolate,  narrow,  narrowing  towards 
the  base  and  apex ; nervules  oblique,  dichotomous,  lax,  scarcely  distinct, 
subimmersed  in  the  thick  parenchyma.”  Brong.  ut  sup.,  p.  225. 

The  specimen  fig.  5 corresponds  precisely  with  the  figure  of  Brongniart, 
pi.  61  bis,  fig.  5,  both  in  form  of  the  leaf  and  arrangement  of  the  nervules, 
so  as  to  leave  little  doubt  of  their  identity.  Figure  5 is  a nearly  perfect  leaf 
of  this  species;  fig.  5 a is  the  base  of  another  specimen,  having  a long  foot- 
stalk; fig.  5 b is  the  base  of  another  leaf  with  fructification  (?);  fig.  5 c the 
same  magnified.  This  structure  is  so  partial,  that  it  can  only  with  doubt  be 
referred  to  the  fructification  of  the  plant;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  the 
same  may  be  some  parasitic  body,  or  the  eggs  of  an  insect  which  have  been 
deposited  upon  the  leaf.  Whatever  this  may  have  been,  it  does  not  appear 
to  have  been  calcareous;  and  the  total  absence  of  calcareous  matter  in  the 
rock  is  an  objection  to  referring  the  same  to  flustra,  or  any  of  the  para- 
sitic corals.  The  ferns  are  abundant  in  the  rock  at  this  point,  and  many 
*of  them  unbroken,  and  evidently  not  far  or  long  transported,  which,  had 
they  been,  would  have  given  support  to  the  supposition  of  this  body  being 
coral. 

I have  referred  this  species  to  the  Glossopteris  Phillipsii,  as  being  the 
only  description  and  figure  accessible  to  me,  to  which  this  fossil  bears  any 
near  resemblance.  The  geological  position  of  that  fossil  is  so  well  ascer- 
tained to  be  the  schists  of  the  upper  part  of  the  oolitic  period,  that,  relying 
upon  the  evidence  offered  by  a single  species,  we  might  regard  it  as  a strong 
argument  for  referring  all  the  other  specimens  to  the  same  geological  period. 

The  two  following  species,  or  varieties  of  the  same  species,  have  been 
referred  with  doubt  to  the  genus  pecopteris ; but  a close  examination  shows 
the  midrib  only  partially  distinct,  and  in  some  cases  scarcely  visible,  while 
the  nervules  radiate  from  the  base.  In  other  cases,  the  midrib  appears  well 
marked  at  the  base,  but  disappears  in  numerous  ramifications  before  reach- 
ing the  apex.  The  character,  therefore,  given  by  Brongniart  of  “ nervo 
medio  valde  notato , nec  apice  evanescente ,”  is  inapplicable  to  these  species* 
20 


306 


[ 174  ] 

but  the  same  feature  may  be  observed  in  some  figured  by  Brongniart  him- 
self. 

6.  Pecopteris  undulata.  PI.  1,  figs.  1,1  a.  (Nos.  83  and  118  of  col- 
lection.) 

Description. — Frond  bipinnate;  rachis  slender;  pinnae  long,  slightly  ob- 
lique to  the  rachis,  opposite  and  alternate;  pinnules  oblique,  oval-ovate, 
broad  at  the  base,  and  the  lower  ones  sometimes  lobed,  gradually  beetling 
coadunate  towards  the  extremity  of  the  pinnae. 

The  pinnules  have  often  an  apparently  continuous  smooth  outline ; but, 
on  closer  examination,  they  appear  undulated,  or  indented  upon  the  margin ; 
and  many  of  them  are  obviously  so. 

7.  Pecopteris  undulata  ; var.  PL  1,  figs.  2,  2 a , 2 b.  (No.  78  of  col- 
lection.) 

Description . — Frond  bipinnate  ; rachis  slender  ; pinnae  numerous,  long, 
and  gradually  tapering,  oblique  to  the  rachis;  pinnules  oval-ovate,  broad 
at  base;  midrib  evanescent;  nervules  strong, bifurcating  towards  the  apex; 
margins  lobed  or  indented,  particularly  in  those  near  the  base  of  the  pinnae. 

This  species  may  be  regarded  as  a variety  of  the  last,  though  the  pin- 
nules are  longer  and  less  broad  proportionally ; but  the  general  aspect  is 
similar,  and  the  habit  of  the  plant  precisely  the  same. 

The  specimen  fig.  2 b can  only  be  regarded  as  an  extreme  variety  of  the 
same  species,  which  is  approached  in  some  of  the  enlarged  pinnules,  as 
fig.  2 a . 

8.  Pecopteris  (?)  odontopteroides.  PI.  1,  figs.  3 and  4.  (Nos.  78  and 
ilS  of  collection.) 

Description . — Frond  bipinnate  ? pinnae  long  and  slender ; secondary 
pinnae  sub-distant,  gradually  tapering,  nearly  perpendicular;  pinnules  sub- 
rotund, obtuse,  small,  approximate,  oblique,  alternate,  and  coadunate  at 
base ; nervules  strong,  diverging  from  base  ; no  distinct  midrib. 

Fig.  4.  A few  of  the  pinnae  near  the  termination  of  a frond. 

The  arrangement  of  the  pinnules  and  nerves  in  this  species  strongly  re- 
minds one  of  the  Odontopteris  Schlotheimii>  Brong.  Hist.  Veg.  Foss.,  p. 
256,  t.  78,  fig.  5 — a fossil  fern  of  the  Pennsylvania  coal  measures  ; but  this 
is  essentially  different. 

The  aspect  of  the  three  last-named  plants  is  more  like  that  of  the  true 
coal-measure  ferns  than  any  of  the  others;  but  the  whole  association,  and 
their  fossil  condition,  demand  that  they  should  be  referred  to  a very  modern 
period. 

New  genus — trichopteris. 

Character . — Frond  slender,  flexuous,  in  tufts  or  single,  branching  or 
pinnate ; branches  long,  very  slender. 

9.  Trichopteris  filamentosa.  PI.  2,  fig.  6.  (No.  78  of  collection.) 
Compare  Fucoides  aequalis , Brong.  Hist.  Veg.  Foss.,  p.  58,  t.  5,  figs.  3 and  4. 

Description. — Frond  pinnate  or  bipinnate;  rachis  long,  and  almost  equal- 
ly slender  throughout;  branches  numerous,  regular,  alternate,  simple, 
elongated,  very  slender,  and  flexuous. 

The  branches  are  frequently  folded  back  upon  themselves,  and  undulated, 
lying  like  the  finest  thread  upon  the  surface  of  the  stone.  This  species  is 
very  delicate  and  graceful,  and  can  scarcely  be  examined  without  the  aid  of 


PL  II 


FOSSIL  FERNS 

'T  I O N OF  THE  GEOGRAPHICAL  SURVEY 

OP.  EG  ON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA 


307 


[ 174  ] 

a magnifier.  This  fossil  is  very  similar  to  the  Fucoides  sequalis  of  Brong., 
(from  the  lower  chalk,)  except  that  the  branches  are  longer  and  undivided. 

10.  Trichopteris  gracilis.  PL  1,  fig.  5.  (No.  84  of  collection.) 

Description. — Slender,  stems  numerous,  flexueus,  in  a tuft,  branched; 

branches  numerous,  slender,  oblique,  stronger  than  in  the  last  species* 

This  species  is  more  robust  than  the  first  described,  but  evidently  belongs 
to  the  same  genus.  I had  first  supposed  that  this  might  be  a collection  of 
fern  stems,  stripped  of  their  foliage ; but  their  slender  structure,  long 
branches,  and  peculiar  arrangement,  with  the  appropriate  proportion  of  all 
the  parts,  forbid  its  reference  to  any  thing  of  this  kind  ; it  is  therefore  placed 
in  a new  genus. 

11.  Stems  of  ferns.  PI.  1,  fig.  7. 

The  stems  of  ferns,  denuded  of  leaves,  and  portions  only  of  the  branches 
remaining.  Great  numbers  of  these  stems  occur,  mingled  with  fragments 
of  leaves  and  other  portions  of  ferns  still  perfect. 

12.  Leaf  of  a dycotyledonous  plant.  (?)  PI.  2,  fig.  4.  (Fr.  Aug. 
17,  and  No.  201  of  collection.) 

Description. — Leaf  ovate-lanceolate,  lobed,  lobes  acute,  mucronate;  mid- 
rib straight,  distinct,  dichotomous;  principal  divisions  going  to  the  mucro- 
nate points. 

This  leaf  has  the  aspect  of  the  leaf  of  a dicotyledonous  plant,  and  ap- 
proaches remotely  only  to  the  character  of  species  of  the  genus  Phlebopte - 
ris  of  Brongniart,  which  are  regarded  as  such  by  Phillips,  and  by  Lindley 
and  Hutton.  The  specimen  was  not  observed  soon  enough  to  make  a sat- 
isfactory comparison. 

Locality , in  the  neighborhood  of  the  specimens  containing  the  preceding 
fossils,  and  regarded  by  Captain  Fremont  as  belonging  to  the  same  forma- 
tion. The  rock  containing  them  is  a soft  or  very  partially  indurated  clay, 
very  unlike  the  hard  and  brittle  mass  containing  the  other  species. 

Plate  III. 

Fossil  shells,  &c. 

Figures  1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  and  7,  are  from  longitude  111°,  latitude  40°. 

Figures  11,  12,  and  13,  are  from  longitude  111°,  latitude  41^°. 

Figures  8,  9,  and  10,  are  from  longitude  115°,  latitude  43°. 

Figures  14  and  15,  leaves,  from  longitude  122°,  latitude  45|°. 

13.  Mya  tellinoides.*  PI.  3,  figs.  1 and  2.  Compare  unio  peregri- 
nus;  Phillips’s  Geol.  Yorkshire,  pi.  7,  fig.  12.  (Nos.  8,  28,  and  32,  of  col- 
lection.) 

Description . — Ovate,  posterior  side  extended,  slope,  gentle,  rounded  at 
the  extremity  ; anterior  side  regularly  rounded ; surface  nearly  smooth,  or 
marked  only  by  lines  of  growth ; beaks  slightly  wrinkled ; moderately 
prominent. 

The  specimen  fig.  1 is  an  entire  shell ; fig.  2 is  a cast  of  the  two  valves: 
of  a smaller  specimen,  retaining  a small  portion  of  the  shell.  Another  spe- 
cimen, larger  than  either  of  these,  presents  the  inside  of  both  valves,  with 
the  hinge  broken. 

Locality  in  longitude  1110,  latitude  40°,  in  slaty  bituminous  limestone. 


* The  species,  where  no  authority  is  given,  are  regarded  as  new,  and  will  be  so.  understood. 


308 


[ 174  ] 

14.  Nucula  Impressa  (?)  G.  PL  3,  fig.  3.  (No.  32  of  collection.) 

Description. — Sub-elliptical;  posterior  extremity  somewhat  expanded  ; 

surface  smooth.  A few  of  the  teeth  are  still  visible  on  the  anterior  hinge 
margin,  but  the  greater  part  of  the  hinge  line  is  obscured. 

Locality  in  longitude  111°,  latitude  40°,  in  slaty  bituminous  limestone. 

15.  Cytherea  parvula.  PI.  3,  figs.  10  and  10  a.  (No.  21  of  collec- 
tion.) Compare  Isocardia  angulata?  Phillips’s  Geol.  Yorkshire,  pi.  9, 
fig.  9. 

Description. — Ovate  trigonal;  umbones  elevated ; beaks  incurved  ; sur- 
face marked  by  regular  concentric  lines  of  growth ; umbones  and  beaks 
with  a few  stronger  wrinkles.  The  umbones  of  this  shell  are  scarcely  di- 
verging or  involute  enough  to  place  it  in  the  genus  Isocardia , where  it 
would  otherwise  very  naturally  belong. 

Locality  in  longitude  115°,  latitude  43°,  in  gray  argillaceous  limestone. 
Two  other  specimens  of  the  same  shell  were  noticed. 

16.  Pleurotomaria  uniangulata.  PI.  3,  figs.  4 and  5.  (Nos.  8 and 
32  of  collection. ) 

Description. — Turbinate  ; whorls,  about  six,  gradually  enlarging  ; con- 
vex below,  and  angular  above  ; suture  plain  ; surface  marked  by  fine  lines 
of  growth.  Aperture  round-oval;  shell  thin,  fragile. 

The  specimens  are  all  imperfect,  and  more  or  less  crushed  ; the  figures, 
however,  are  good  representations  of  the  fossil.  It  is  readily  distinguished 
by  its  fine  lines  of  growth,  resembling  a species  of  Helix,  and  by  the  an- 
gular character  of  the  upper  part  of  each  whorl. 

Locality  in  longitude  1 1 1°,  latitude  40°,  in  a dark  slaty  bituminous 
limestone. 

17.  Cerithium  tenerum.  PI.  3,  figs.  6,  6 a.  (Nos.  8,  32,  and  34,  of 
collection.) 

Description. — Elongated,  subulate ; whorls,  about  ten,  marked  with 
strong  ridges,  which  are  again  crossed  by  finer  lines  in  the  direction  of  the 
whorls.  The  strong  vertical  ridges  are  often  obsolete  on  the  last  whorl,  as 
in  fig.  6 a,  and  the  spiral  lines  much  stronger. 

This  shell  is  very  strongly  marked,  and  its  external  aspect  is  sufficient  to 
distinguish  it : it  is  easily  fractured,  and,  from  the  nature  of  the  matrix,  it 
has  been  impossible  to  obtain  a specimen  exhibiting  the  mouth  perfectly. 

Locality , same  as  the  preceding. 

18.  Cerithium  Fremonti.  PI.  3,  figs.  7,  7 a.  (No.  28  of  collection.) 

Description. — Shell  terete,  ovate,  acute  ; whorls,  about  nine,  convex ; 

summit  of  each  one  coronated ; surface  marked  by  regular  rows  of  pustu- 
lar knobs,  often  with  smaller  ones  between ; beak  small,  sharp ; mouth  not 
visible  in  the  specimep. 

This  is  a very  beautifully  marked  shell,  with  the  summit  of  each  whorl 
crowned  with  a row  of  short  spines. 

Locality , same  as  the  preceding. 

19.  Natica  (?)  Occident alis.  Pi.  3,  figs.  S,  8 a.  (Nos.  16  and  21  of 
collection. ) 

Description. — Depressed,  conical,  or  sub-globose  ; spire  short,  consisting 
of  about  five  whorls,  the  last  one  comprising  the  greater  part  of  the  shell ; 
aperture  semi-oval,  rounded  at  both  extremities ; umbilicus  small.  Surface 
marked  by  lines  of  growth. 


Tim 


TOSSIL  SHELLS, 

COLLECTION  OF  THE  GEO  GRAPH  I CAL  SURVEY -OF 

OREGON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA  . 


E.  Weber  <*  Co  Satis 


309 


C 1‘4  ] 

There  is  a single  perfect  specimen  and  several  casts  of  this  delicate  little 
shell.  The  mouth  is  not  entire,  but  enough  remains  to  show  that  the  lip 
was  a little  expanded ; but  whether  the  columella  covered  a part  of  the 
umbilicus  is  uncertain. 

Locality  in  longitude  115°,  latitude  43°,  in  a gray  siliceous  limestone. 

20.  Turritella  bilineata.  PI.  3,  fig.  9.  (No.  21  of  collection.) 

Description. — Elongated, subulate,  spire  rapidly  ascending;  whorls  mark- 
ed by  a double,  elevated,  spiral  line,  which  is  notched  in  the  lower  whorls. 

The  specimen  figured  is  imperfect,  only  the  upper  part  of  the  shell  remain- 
ing. Several  casts  of  the  same  species  occur  in  the  specimens. 

Locality , same  as  the  preceding. 

21.  Cerithium  nodulosum.  PI.  3,  figs.  11  and  12.  (Nos.  64,  68,  and  74, 
of  collection.) 

Description. — Elongated,  subulate  ; spire  rapidly  ascending ; whorls 
about  seven ; the  sutures  marked  by  a spiral  band  ; surface  of  whorls 
marked  by  curved  striae,  or  elevated  lines,  in  the  direction  of  the  lines  of 
growth.  Whorls  carinated  with  a row  of  protuberances  along  the  centre. 

The  arched  lines  of  growth  are  more  distinct  upon  the  last  whorl,  and 
it  is  marked  beneath  by  a few  spiral  lines. 

Fig.  11  is  a perfect  specimen.  Fig.  12.  The  left-hand  figure  is  a cast 
of  the  same  species;  the  right-hand  figure  retains  the  shell  upon  the  upper 
part,  while  it  is  removed  from  the  lower  part. 

Locality  in  longitude  111°,  latitude  41^°,  in  yellowish-gray  oolitic  lime- 
stone. 

22.  Turbo  paludin^formis.  Pi.  3,  fig.  13.  (No.  64  of  collection.) 

Description. — Whorls,  about  four,  rapidly  enlarging,  convex,  smooth  ; 

mouth  round-oval;  columella  slightly  reflected;  volutions  marked  by  fine 
arched  striae  in  the  direction  of  the  lines  of  growth. 

A small  portion  only  of  the  shell  remains  upon  the  specimen  figured, 
but  it  is  retained  in  the  matrix.  This  fossil  occurs  in  gray  or  yellowish 
oolite,  associated  with  Cerithium  nodulosum , and  other  shells.  It  re- 
sembles Paludina  in  form. 

Locality , same  as  the  preceding. 

23.  Leaves  of  dicotyledonous  plants.  PI.  3,  figs.  14  and  15. 

The  specimens  have  not  been  satisfactorily  identified,  buj  doubtless  be- 
long to  a very  modern  tertiary  deposite. 

Locality , Cascades  of  the  Columbia  river. 

Plate  IV. 

24.  Inoceramus ? PI.  4,  figs.  1 and  1 a.  (Nos.  26,  29,  31,  33, 

and  3S,of  collection.)  Compare  Inoceramus  mytiloides , Sow.  Min.  Con., 
tab.  442. 

Description. — Inequavalved,  depressed,  and  elongated  ; surface  marked 
by  numerous  waved  lines  and  ridges;  convex  towards  the  beaks ; beaks 
short  and  obtuse,  somewhat  obsolete  in  old  specimens;  hinge  line  oblique. 

In  the  old  specimens,  the  shell  appears  much  flattened,  except  towards 
the  beaks ; while  in  the  younger  specimens  it  is  more  convex,  and  par- 
ticularly so  towards  the  beaks.  The  youngest  specimens  are  finely  lined, 
and  the  whole  surface  of  one  valve  quite  convex. 


310 


C 174  ] 

This  fossil  apparently  exists  in  great  numbers,  as  in  the  specimens  ex- 
amined there  were  individuals  in  all  stages  of  growth,  though  mostly 
broken  or  separated  valves.  The  same  species  was  collected  by  the  late 
Mr.  Nicollet,  near  the  Great  Bend  of  the  Missouri. 

Locality , Smoky  Hill  river,  longitude  98°,  latitude  38°,  in  yellowish  and 
gray  limestone  of  the  cretaceous  formation. 

25.  Inoceramus ? PI.  4,  fig.  2.  (No.  42  of  collection.)  Compare 

Inoceramus  involutus , Sow.  Min.  Con.,  tab.  583. 

Description. — Semicircular;  surface  flat,  with  the  margin  deflected; 
marked  by  strong,  regular  concentric  ridges,  which  become  attenuated  on 
either  side,  and  are  nearly  obsolete  towards  the  beak ; beak  of  one  valve 
small,  not  elevated ; hinge  line  nearly  rectangular. 

The  strong  concentric  ridges  distinguish  this  fossil  from  any  other  species. 
The  specimen  figured  is  probably  the  flat  valve,  as  a fragment  of  a large 
and  much  more  convex  valve  accompanies  this  one,  from  the  same  locality. 
The  shell,  particularly  towards  the  margin,  is  very  thick  and  fibrous. 

Locality , near  the  eastern  slope  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  in  longitude 
105°,  latitude  39°,  in  light  yellowish-gray  limestone,  probably  of  the  creta- 
ceous formation. 

% 

Note. — The  specimens  figured  on  plate  III,  Nos.  1,  2,  4,  5,  and  6,  have 
the  appearance  of  fluviatile  shells,  and  would  have  been  so  regarded  but 
for  the  occurrence  of  fig.  3,  which  appears  to  be  a Nucula,  and  fig.  7,  in 
the  same  association,  the  sculpturing  of  which  is  unlike  any  of  the  Melania 
known  to  me.  It  is  not  improbable,  however,  that  this  may  prove  a fresh- 
water deposite  of  vast  interest,  as  it  appears  to  be  of  great  extent,  and  oc- 
curs at  a great  elevation.  The  researches  of  Capt.  Fremont,  in  his  future 
explorations,  will  doubtless  set  this  question  at  rest,  by  a larger  collection 
of  fossils  from  the  same  region. 


FOSSIL  SHELLS 

COLLECTION  OF  THE  GEOGRAPHICAL  SURJE' 

OREGON  AND  NORTH  CALIFORNIA 


VJ.  TV. 


£ Weber  dbCn  £cde' 


311 


[ 174  ] 


C. 

NOTE  CONCERNING  THE  PLANTS  COLLECTED  IN  THE  SECOND  EXPEDI- 
TION OF  CAPTAIN  FREMONT. 

When  Captain  Fremont  set  out  on  his  second  expedition,  he  was  well  provided  with  paper  and 
other  means  for  making  extensive  botanical  collections;  and  it  was  understood  that,  on  his  return, 
we  should,  conjointly,  prepare  a full  account  of  his  plants,  to  be  appended  to  his  report.  About 
i, 400  species  were  collected,  many  of  them  in  regions  not  before  explored  by  any  botanist.  In 
consequence,  however,  of  the  great  length  of  the  journey,  and  the  numerous  accidents  to  which 
the  party  were  exposed,  but  especially  owing  to  the  dreadful  flood  of  the  Kansas,  which  deluged  the 
borders  of  the  Missouri  and  Mississippi  rivers,  more  than  half  of  his  specimens  were  ruined  before 
he  reached  the  borders  of  civilization.  Even  the  portion  saved  was  greatly  damaged;  so  that,  in 
many  instances,  it  has  been  extremely  difficult  to  determine  the  plants.  As  there  was  not  suffi- 
cient time  before  the  publication  of  Captain  Fremont’s  report  for  the  proper  study  of  the  remains  of 
his  collection,  it  has  been  deemed  advisable  to  reserve  the  greater  part  of  them  to  incorporate  with 
the  plants  which  we  expect  he  will  bring  with  him  on  returning  from  his  third  expedition,  upon 
which  he  has  just  set  out. 

The  loss  sustained  by  Captain  Fremont,  and,  I may  say,  by  the  botanical  world,  will,  we  trust, 
be  partly  made  up  the  present  and  next  seasons,  as  much  of  the  same  country  will  be  passed  over 
again,  and  some  new  regions  explored.  Arrangements  have  also  been  made,  by  which  the  botanical 
collections  will  be  preserved,  at  least  from  the  destructive  effects  of  water;  and  a person  accompa- 
nies the  expedition,  who  is  to  make  drawings  of  all  the  most  interesting  plants.  Particular  atten- 
tion will  be  given  to  the  forest  trees  and  the  vegetable  productions  that  are  useful  in  the  arts,  or  that 
are  employed  for  food  or  medicine. 

JOHN  TORREY. 


Descriptions  of  some  new  genera  and  species  of  plants,  collected  in  Cap- 
tain J.  C.  Fremont’s  exploring  expedition  to  Oregon  and  North  Cali- 
fornia, in  the  years  1843-’44:  By  John  Torrey  and  J.  C.  Fremont. 

Cleomella  (?)  obtusifolia.  Tow.  and  Frem. 

Branching  from  the  base,  and  diffuse  ; leaflets  cuneate-obovate,  obtuse  5 
style  filiform. 

Annual,  stem  smooth,  the  branches  spreading,  about  a span  long,  hairy 
in  the  axils.  Leaves,  or  petioles,  an  inch  or  more  in  length  ; the  lamina  of 
the  leaflets  4 — 6 lines  long,  apiculate  with  a deciduous  bristle,  nearly  smooth 
above,  sparsely  strigose  underneath.  Pedicels  solitary  and  axillary,  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  branches,  longer  than  the  petioles.  Calyx  much  shorter 
than  the  corolla  ; the  sepals  lacerately  3 — 5-toothed.  Petals  yellow,  oblong- 
lanceolate,  obtuse,  about  3 lines  in  length.  Stamens  6,  unequal,  a little 
exserted;  anthers  linear-oblong,  recurved  when  old.  Torus  hemispherical. 
Ovary  on  a long  slender  stipe,  obovate ; style  longer  than  the  ovary. 

On  the  American  fork  of  the  Sacramento  river ; March.  The  specimens 
are  not  in  fruit,  so  that  we  cannot  be  certain  as  to  the  genus;  but  it  seems 
to  be  a Cleomella. 


L 174  ] 


312 


Meconella  California.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Leaves  obovate-spatulate ; stamens  11 — 12. 

On  the  American  fork  of  the  Sacramento  river. 

This  species  is  intermediate  between  Meconeita  and  Platystigma.  It  is 
a slender  annual,  3 — 4 inches  high,  with  the  radical  leaves  in  rosulate  dus- 
ters, and  more  dilated  at  the  extremity  than  in  M.  Oregana.  The  flowers 
also  are  much  larger.  The  torus,  which  is  like  that  of  Eschschotzia,  is  very 
distinct. 

Arctomecon.  Torr.  and  Frem. — n.  gen. 

Calyx  of  3 smooth  imbricated  caducous  sepals.  Petals  4,  obovate,  reg- 
ular. Stamens  numerous  ; anthers  oblong-linear  : the  cells  opening  longi- 
tudinally. Ovary  obovoid,  composed  of  6 carpels,  with  as  many  narrow 
intervalvular  placentae  : styles  none  : stigmas  coalescing  into  a small  hem- 
ispherical 6-angled  sessile  head,  the  angles  of  which  are  opposite  the  pla- 
centae, not  forming  a projecting  disk.  Capsule  (immature)  ovoid,  the  pla- 
centae almost  filiform,  opening  at  the  summit  by  6 valves,  which  separate 
from  the  persistent  placentae.  Seeds  oblong,  smooth,  strophiolate. — A pe- 
rennial herb,  with  a thick  woody  root.  Leaves  numerous,  mostly  crowded 
about  the  root,  flabelliform-cuneate,  densely  clothed  with  long  gray  up- 
wardly barbellate  hairs,  3 — 5 lobed  at  the  summit ; the  lobes  with  2 — 3 
teeth,  which  are  tipped  with  a rigid  pungent  upwardly  scabrous  bristle. 
Stem  scape-like,  about  a foot  high,  furnished  about  the  middle  with  one  or 
two  small  bract-like  leaves,  smooth  above,  rough  towards  the  base.  Flow- 
ers in  a loose,  somewhat  umbellate,  simple  or  somewhat  compound  panicle ; 
•the  peduncles  elongated,  erect.  Petals  about  an  inch  long,  yellow. 

Arctomecon  Californicum.  Torr.  and  Frfo/i. 

This  remarkable  plant  was  found  in  only  a single  station  in  the  Califor- 
nian mountains,  on  the  banks  of  a creek ; flowering  early  in  May.  The 
soil  was  sterile  and  gravelly.  Although  very  near  Papaver,  it  differs  so 
much  in  habit  and  in  the  strophiolate  seeds,  as  well  as  in  other  characters, 
that  it  must  be  a distinct  genus. 

Krameria. 

A shrubby  species  of  this  genus  was  found  on  the  Virgen  river,  in  Califor- 
nia. It  seems  to  be  K.  parvifolia  of  Bentham,  described  in  the  Voyage  of 
the  Sulphur.  Ilis  plant,  however,  was  only  in  fruit,  while  our  specimens 
are  only  in  flower.  Ours  grows  in  thick  bunches  1 — 2 feet  high,  of  a gray 
aspect,  with  numerous  very  straggling  and  somewhat  spineseent  branches. 
Leaves  scarcely  one-third  of  an  inch  long,  obovate-spatulate.  The  flowers 
are  scarcely  more  than  half  as  large  as  in  K.  lanceolata.  Sepals  5,  un- 
equal; claws  of  the  Supper  petals  united  into  a column  below;  lamina 
more  or  less  ovate;  the  two  lower  petals  short  and  truncate.  Stamens 
shorter  than  the  upper  petals;  the  filaments  united  at  the  base  with  the 
column  of  the  petals : anthers  one-celled,  with  a membranaceous  summit, 
the  orifice  of  which  is  somewhat  dilated,  and  finally  lacerated.  Ovary 
hairy  and  spinulose  ; style  rigid,  declined. 

Oxystylis.  Torr.  and  Frem. — n.  gen. 

Sepals  linear ; petals  ovate,  somewhat  unguiculate ; ovary  2-celled ; the 
cells  subglobose,  each  with  two^  ovules:  style  pyramidal,  much  larger  than 


BOTANY  Blau*  H 


Iitk  "by  E Weber  t Co'BaTtimcii' 


313 


[ 174  ] 

the  ovary.  Silicle  didymous:  the  carpels  obovoid-globose,  one-seeded, 
(or  rarely  two-seeded,)  indehiscent,  separating  from  the  base  of  the  persis- 
tent subulate  spinesqent  style:  pericarp  crustaceo-coriaceous.  Seed  ovate, 
somewhat  compressed ; testa  membranaceous,  the  lining  much  thickened 
and  fleshy.  Cotyledons  incumbent,  linear-oblong;  radicle  opposite  the 
placentae. — A smooth  annual  herb.  Leaves  ternately  parted,  on  long 
petioles;  the  leaflets  ovate  or  oblong,  entire  petiolulate.  Flowers  in 
numerous  axillary  crowded  short  capitate  racemes,  small  and  yellow. 

Oxystylis  lutea.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

On  the  Margoza  river,  at  the  foot  of  a sandy  hill;  only  seen  in  one  place, 
but  abundant  there.  The  specimens  were  collected  on  the  28th  of  April, 
and  were  in  both  flower  and  fruit. 

A rather  stout  plant;  the  stem  erect,  a foot  or  15  inches  high,  simple  or 
a little  branching  below,  leafy.  Leaflets  1 — 1§  inch  long,  obtuse.  Heads 
of  flowers  about  half  an  inch  in  diameter,  not  elongating  in  fruit.  Calyx 
shorter  than  the  corolla;  the  sepals  acute,,  yellowish,  tipped  with  orange. 
Petals  about  two  lines  long.  Fruit  consisting  of  two  roundish  indehiscent 
carpels,  which  at  maturity  separate  by  a small  base,  leaving  the  indurated 
pointed  style.  The  epicarp  is  thin,  membranaceous,  and  slightly  corrugated. 

This  remarkable  plant  seems  to  connect  Cruciferae  with  Capparidaceae. 
The  clusters  of  old  flower  stalks,  with  their  numerous  crowded  spinescent 
styles,  present  a singular  appearance. 

Thamnosma.  Torr.  and  Frim . — n.  gen. 

Flowers  hermaphrodite,  (or  polygamous?)  Calyx  4-cleft.  Corolla  4- 
petalled,  much  longer  than  the  calyx ; the  aestivation  valvate.  Stamens  S, 
in  a double  series,  all  fertile.  Ovaries  2,  sessile  and  connate  at  the  summit 
of  a stipe,  each  with  5 or  6 ovules  in  2 series ; styles  united  into  one ; 
stigma  capitate.  Capsules  2,  sessile  at  the  sumrrrit  of  the  stipe,  subglobose, 
united  below,  (one  of  them  sometimes  abortive,)  coriaceous,  1 — 3-seeded. 
Seeds  curved,  with  a short  beak,  black  and  minutely  wrinkled;  the  radicle 
inferior.  Embryo  curved ; cotyledons  broadly  linear,  incumbent. 

Thamnosma  Montana.  Tor r and  Frem . 

A shrub  of  the  height  of  one  or  two  feet,  branching  from  the  base,  with 
simple,  very  small  linear  wedge-shaped  leaves.  The  flowers  are  apparently 
dark  purple,  in  loose  terminal  clusters.  The  whole  plant  has  a strong  aro- 
matic odor,  and  every  part  of  it  is  covered  with  little  glandular  dots.  Al- 
though nearly  allied  to  Xanthoxylum,  we  regard  it  as  a peculiar  genus.  It 
grows  in  the  passes  of  the  mountains,  and  on  the  Virgen  river  in  Northern 
California.  The  greater  part  of  it  was  already  in  fruit  in  the  month  of  May. 

Prosopis  odorata.  Torr . and  Frtm. 

Branches  and  leaves  smooth;  spines  stout,  mostly  in  pairs,  straight;  pin* 
nae  a single  pair ; leaflets  6 — S pairs,  oblong-linear,  slightly  falcate,  some" 
what  coriaceous,  rather  obtuse ; spikes  elongated,  on  short  peduncles;  co" 
rolla  three  times  as  long  as  the  calyx;  stamens  exserted;  legume  spirally 
wisted  into  a compact  cylinder. 

A tree  about  20  feet  high,  with  a very  broad  full  head,  and  the  lower 
branches  declining  to  the  ground;  the  thorns  sometimes  more  than  art  inch 


314 


[ 174  ] 

long.  Leaves  smooth;  the  common  petiole  1 — 2 inches  long, and  terminated 
by  a spinescent  point;  leaflets  from  half  an  inch  to  an  inch  long,  and  1 — 2 
lines  broad,  somewhat  coricaceous,  sparingly  but  prominently  veined  under- 
neath. Spikes  2 — 4 inches  long,  and  about  one-third  of  an  inch  in  diameter. 
Flowers  yellow,  very  fragrant,  nearly  sessile  on  the  rachis.  Calyx  cam- 
panulate,  somewhat  equally  5-toothed,  smooth.  Petals  ovate-oblong,  hairy 
inside.  Stamens  10,  one-third  longer  than  the  corolla.  Anthers  tipped  with 
a slightly  stipitate  gland.  Ovary  linear-oblong,  villous;  style  smooth;  stigma 
capitate,  concave  at  the  extremity.  Legumes  clustered,  spirally  twisted 
into  a very  close  rigid  cylinder,  which  is  from  an  inch  to  an  inch  and  a half 
long,  and  about  two  lines  in  diameter,  forming,  from  ten  to  thirteen  turns, 
many  seeded.  Sarcocarp  pulpy ; the  two  opposite  sides  of  the  firm  endo 
carp  are  compressed  together  between  the  seeds,  forming  a longitudinal  kind 
of  septum,  which  divides  the  pulp  into  two  parts.  Seeds  ovate,  kidney-form, 
compressed,  very  smooth  and  hard.  Embryo  yellowish,  surrounded  with  a 
thin  albumen. 

A characteristic  tree  in  the  mountainous  part  of  Northern  California,  par- 
ticularly along  the  Mohahve  and  Virgen  rivers,  flowering  the  latter  part  of 
April. 

This  species  belongs  to  the  section  strombocarpa  of  Mr.  Bentham,* 
which  includes  the  Acacia  strombulifera  of  Wildenow.  In  the  structure 
of  the  pod  it  is  so  remarkable  that  we  at  one  time  regarded  it  as  a distinct 
genus,  to  which  we  gave  the  name  of  Spirolobium. 

There  are  numerous  other  Leguminosae  in  the  collection,  including. 
might  be  expected,  many  species  of  Lupinus,  Astragalus,  Oxytropis,  M 
Phaca,  some  of  which  are  new ; also,  Thermopsis  rhombifolia  and  mon- 
tana,  and  a beautiful  shrubby  Psoralea  (or  some  allied  genus)  covered  with 
bright  violet  flowers. 

CoWANIA  PLICATA.  D.  Don.  (.?) 

Specimens  of  this  plant,  without  a ticket,  were  in  the  collection;  ^ Mbt- 
less  obtained  in  California.  It  may  prove  to  be  a distinct  species  fra  v..e 
Mexican  plant,  for  the  leaves  are  more  divided  than  they  are  described  by 
Don,  and  the  flowers  are  smaller.  The  genus  Cowania  is  very  nearly  al- 
lied to  Cercocarpus  and  Purshia,  notwithstanding  its  numerous  ovaries. 
The  lobes  of  the  calyx  are  imbricated,  as  in  those  genera,  and  not  valvate, 
as  in  Eudryadeae , to  which  section  it  is  referred  by  Endiicher. 

Purshia  tridentata  formed  a conspicuous  object  in  several  parts  of  the 
route,  not  only  east  of  the  mountains,  but  in  Oregon  and  California.  It 
is  covered  with  a profusion  of  yellow  flowers,  and  is  quite  ornamental. 
Sometimes  it  attains  the  height  of  twelve  feet. 

Spiraea  ariaefolia,  var.  discolor , was  found  on  the  upper  waters  o^ 
Platte,  holding  its  characters  so  well  that  it  should  perhaps  be  ^gard 
a distinct  species. 

(Enothera  clav-kformis.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Leaves  ovate  or  oblong,  denticulate  or  toothed,  pinnatified  at  the  base, 
with  a long  naked  petiole;  scape  with  several  small  leaves,  S — 12-flowered  ; 
segments  of  the  calyx  longer  than  the  tube ; capsules  clavate-cylindrical, 
nearly  twice  as  long  as  the  pedicel.  Flowers  about  as  large  as  in  CE.  pu - 
mila.  Grows  with  the  preceding. 


In  Hooker’s  Journal  of  Botany,  iv,  p.  351. 


Iith  \w  E .Weber  aCo.  Baltimore . 


315  [ 174  ] 

This  new  species  belongs  to  the  section  Chylismia  of  Nutt.  ( Torr.  and 
Gr.  FI.  N.  « dm.  l,p.  506.) 

CEnothera  deltoides.  Torr . and  Fr'em. 

Annual ; canescently  strigose  ; stem  low  and  stout ; leaves  rhombicovate, 
repandly  denticulate,  acute  ; flowers  (large)  clustered  at  the  summit  of  the 
short  stem;  tube  of  the  calyx  nearly  twice  the  length  of  the  segments ; pe- 
tals entire,  one-third  longer  than  the  slightly  declined  stamens  ; anthers  very 
long,  fixed  by  the  middle;  style  exserted;  capsules  prismatic-cylindrical. 

Allied  to  CE.  Jamesii,  Torr.  and  Gr.,  and  belongs,  like  that  species,  to 
the  section  Eihenothera  and  sub-section  Onagra. 

CEnothera  canescens.  Torr.  and  Fr'em . 

Strigosely  canescent ; leaves  narrowly  lanceolate,  rather  obtuse,  remotely 
denticulate ; flowers  in  a leafy  raceme ; tube  of  the  calyx  rather  slender, 
three  times  as  long  as  the  ovary,  and  one-third  longer  than  the  segments ; 
petals  broadly  ovate,  entire. 

This  species  was  collected  (we  believe)  on  the  upper  waters  of  the  Platte. 
It  belongs  to  the  section  Euoenothera,  and  to  a sub -section  which  may  be 
called  Gauropsis,  and  characterized  as  follows : Perennial  diffuse  herbs  ; 
tube  of  the  calyx  linear ; capsule  obovate,  sessile,  with  4-winged  angles 
and  no  intermediate  ribs, tardily  opening;  seeds  numerous,  horizontal;  the 
testa  membranaceous ; leaves  opaque. 

Besides  these  new  species,  many  other  (Enotheree  were  collected ; among 
which  may  be  mentioned  CE.  albicaulis,  alyssoides,  montana , and  Mis - 
souriensis.  Also,  Gay ophy turn  diffusum,  (from  the  Snake  country,  grow- 
ing about  2 feet  high.)  Slenosiphon  virgatum,  and  Gaura  coccinea. 

Composite. 

The  plants  of  this  family  were  placed  in  the  hands  of  Dr.  Gray  for  ex- 
amination; and  he  has  described  some  of  them  (including  four  new  gen- 
era) in  the  Boston  Journal  of  Natural  History  for  January,  1845.  He  has 
since  ascertained  another  new  genus  among  the  specimens;  and  we  fully 
concur  with  him  in  the  propriety  of  dedicating  it  to  the  late  distinguished 
I.  N.  Nicollet,  Esq.,  who  spent  several  years  in  exploring  the  country  wa- 
tered by  the  Mississippi  and  Missouri  rivers,  and  who  was  employed  by  the 
United  States  Government  in  a survey  of  the  region  lying  between  the 
sources  of  those  rivers.  This  gentleman  exerted  himself  to  make  known 
the  botany  of  the  country  which  he  explored,  and  brought  home  with  him 
an  interesting  collection  of  plants,  made  under  his  direction,  by  Mr.  Charles 
Geyer,  of  which  an  account  is  given  in  the  report  of  Mr.  N.  The  follow- 
ing is  the  description  of  this  genus  by  Dr.  Gray: 

Nicolletia.  Gray. 

“ Heads  heterogamous,  with  few  rays, many  flowered.  Involucre  campan- 
ulate,  consisting  of  about  8 oval  membranaceous  scales  in  a single  series  ; the 
base  calyculate,  with  one  or  two  smaller  scales.  Receptacle  convex,  alveo- 
late. Corolla  of  the  disk  flowers  equally  5-toothed.  Branches  of  the  style 
terminated  by  a subulate  hisped  appendage.  Achenia  elongated,  slender, 
canescently  pubescent.  Pappus  double,  scarcely  shorter  than  the  corrolla  ; 
the  exterior  of  numerous  scabrous,  unequal  bristles ; the  inner  of  5 linear- 


I 


[ 174  ] 316 

lanceolate  chaffy  scales,  which  are  entire,  or  2-toothed  at  the  summit,  and 
furnished  with  a strong  central  nerve,  which  is  produced  into  a short  sca- 
brous awn. — A humble,  branching  (and  apparently  annual)  herb.  Leaves 
alternate,  pinnatified,  and  somewhat  fleshy,  (destitute  of  glands  ?) ; the  lobes 
and  rachis  linear.  Heads  terminal,  solitary,  nearly  sessile,  large,  (about  an 
inch  long,)  with  one  or  two  involucrate  leaves  at  the  base.  Corolla  yellow.” 

Nicolletia  occidentalis.  Gray . 

On  the  banks  of  the  Mohahve  river,  growing  in  naked  sands;  flowering 
in  April.  The  plant  has  a powerful  and  rather  agreeable  odor.  This  in- 
teresting genus  (which  is  described  from  imperfect  materials)  belongs  to  the 
tribe  Senecionide.ze,  and  the  sub-tribe  Tagitine.e.  It  has  the  habit  of 
Dissodia,  and  exhibits  both  the  chaffy  pappus  of  the  division  Tageteae , and 
the  pappus  pilosus  of  Porophyllum .* — Gray. 

Franseria  dumosa.  Gray. 

Shrubby,  much  branched  ; leaves  pinnatified, canescent  on  both  sides,  as' 
are  the  branchlets;  the  divisions  3 — 7,  oval,  entire,  and  somewhat  lobed;  | 
heads  rather  loosely  spiked;  involucre  of  the  sterile  flowers  5 — 7-cleft,  I 
strigosely  canescent;  of  the  fertile,  ovoid,  2-celled,  2-flowered. 

A shrub,  1 — 2 feet  high,  with  divaricate  rigid  branches.  Leaves  scarcely 
an  inch  long.  Fertile  (immature)  involucre  clothed  with  straight  soft  lan-  I 
ceolate-subulate  prickles,  which  are  short  and  scale-like.  ' 

On  the  sandy  uplands  of  the  Mohahve  river,  and  very  common  in  all 
that  region  of  North  California.  Flowering  in  April.  . 

Amsonia  tomentosa.  Torr . and  Frim. 

Suffrutescent ; clothed  with  a dense  whitish  pubescence  ; leaves  lanceo- 
late and  ovate-lanceolate,  acute  at  each  end;  segments  of  the  calyx  lanceo- 
late-subulate ; corolla  slightly  hairy  externally. 

Stems  numerous,  erect,  12  to  18  inches  high,  woody,  below  simple  or 
branching.  Leaves  alternate  ; the  lowest  small  and  spatulate,  or  reduced  to 
scales;  the  others  about  2 inches  long,  and  varying  from  4 to  8 lines  in 
breadth ; entire,  acuminate  at  the  base.  Flowers  in  rather  dense,  some- 
what fastigiate  terminal  clusters,  nearly  three-fourths  of  an  inch  long.  Ca-  I 
lyx  about  one-third  the  length  of  the  corolla,  5-parted  to  the  base;  the  seg-  I 
ments  narrow  and  hairy.  Corolla  with  the  tube  ventricose  above;  the  seg- 
ments ovate-oblong.  Stamens  included;  filaments  short;  anthers  ovate- 1 
sagittate.  Ovaries  oblong,  united  below,  distinct  above,  smooth;  style 
slender;  stigma  capitate,  with  a membranaceous  collar  at  the  base. 

The  specimens  of  this  plant  were  without  tickets;  but  they  were  proba-  j 
bly  collected  west  of  the  Rocky  mountains.  They  were  without  fruit. 

Asclepias  speciosa.  Torr.  in  Ann.  Lyc.  New  York,  ii ,p.  218. 

This  (as  was  stated  in  the  first  report)  is  A.  Douglasii  of  Hooker,  well 
figured  in  his  Flora  Boreali  Americana,  2,  t.  142.  It  has  a wide  range,  be- 
ing found  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky  mountains,  and  from  the  sources  of 
the  St.  Peter’s  to  those  of  the  Kansas  and  Canadian.  The  fruit  was  collect- 
ed from  specimens  on  the  banks  of  the  Snake  river.  It  is  almost  exactly 
like  that  of  A.  Cornuti , being  inflated,  woolly,  and  covered  with  soft  spines. 

* It  should  be  stated  here,  that  the  notice  of  this  genus  by  Dr.  Gray  was  drawn  up  in  Latin;  bu4 
we  have  given  it  in  English,  that  it  may  be  uniform  with  our  own  descriptions. 


BOTANY  Tl'itc  JIT. 


latk  .Try  £ Web  er-iCo.  B altamore 


317 


[ 174  ] 


Acerates  latifolia.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Stem  simple,  erect,  smooth  ; leaves  roundish -ovate,  nearly  sessile,  obtuse, 
(with  a small  mucro,  smooth  on  both  sides;  umbel  solitary,  on  a terminal 
i peduncle,  few-flowered  ; pedicels  slender;  segments  of  the  corolla  ovate- 
lanceolate;  lobes  of  the  crown  semilunar-ovate,  as  long  as  the  column, 
rather  obtuse,  cucullate. 

On  Green  river,  a tributary  of  the  Colorado  of  the  West;  June.  About  a 
span  high.  Leaves  about  an  inch  and  a half  long,  and  more  than  an  inch 
wide.  Flowers  few,  very  large,  apparently  yellowish.  Fruit  not  seen. 

Eriogonum  inflatum.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Smooth,  bi-trichotomous;  the  lower  part,  and  sometimes  the  two  primary 
divisions  of  the  stem,  much  inflated  and  clavate;  peduncles  divaricately 
branched,  the  ultimate  divisions  filiform  and  solitary;  involucre  few-flow- 
ered, smooth  ; the  teeth  equal,  erect. 

I The  specimens  of  this  plant  are  imperfect,  being  destitute  of  leaves, 
which  are  probably  wholly  radical.  It  is  a foot  or  more  high.  The  first 
joint  of  the  stem,  or  rather  scape,  is  remarkably  dilated  and  fistular  up- 
ward. This  divides  into  three  or  more  branches,  the  two  primary  ones  of 
which  are  sometimes  inflated  like  the  first ; the  subdivisions  are  dichoto- 
mous, with  a pedicellate  involucre  in  each  fork.  The  involucres  are  about 
a line  in  diameter,  smooth,  5 — 6-flowered;  and,  in  all  the  specimens  that  I 
examined,  only  5-toothed.  The  plant  was  found  on  barren  hills  in  the 
lower  pajpt  of  North  California. 

Eriogonum  reniforme.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Annual ; leaves  radical,  on  long  petioles,  reniform,  clothed  with  a dense 
hoary  tomentum;  stem  scape-like,  naked,  3-forked  from  the  base,  glaucous, 
and  nearly  smooth  ; the  divisions  divaricately  2 — 3-forked  ; involucres  2 — 4 
together,  on  slender  peduncles,  smooth,  campanulate,  5-toothed,  the  teeth 
nearly  equal,  obtuse  ; perigonium  smooth. 

On  the  Sacramento  river;  March.  Allied  to  E.  vimineum  of  Bentham. 
A small  species,  with  very  minute  flowers. 

Eriogonum  cordalum.  Torr.  and  Frem. 

Annual ; leaves  all  radical,  on  long  petioles,  roundish-ovate,  cordate, 
very  obtuse,  slightly  pubescent  above,  hairy  underneath;  scape  naked, 
slender, smooth  and  glaneous,  divaricately  branched,  the  divisions  slender; 
involucres  solitary,  on  filiform  peduncles,  campanulate,  smooth,  5-toothed, 
the  teeth  nearly  equal,  rather  obtuse ; perigonium  hairy. 

With  the  preceding,  from  which  it  is  easily  distinguished  by  the  form  of 
its  leaves  and  color  of  the  pubescence. 

Many  other  species  of  this  genus  were  collected  in  California  and  the 
Snake  country,  some  of  which  are  probably  new,  and  will  be  described  in 
the  next  report. 

Fremontia  vermicularis.  Torr.  in  Fr'tm.  report. 

This  curious  plant  is  always  found  in  saline  soils,  or  where  the  atmo- 
jsphere  is  saline.  Its  greatest  height  is  eight  feet.  It  is  a characteristic  fea- 
Lture  of  the  vegetation  throughout  a great  part  of  Oregon  and  North  Cali- 
ifornia.  About  Bro  wn’s  Hole,  on  Green  river,  it  occupies  almost  exclusively 
1 the  bottoms  of  the  neighboring  streams.  It  is  abundant  also  on  the  shores 


318 


[ 174  ] 

of  a salt  lake  in  lat.  38°  and  long.  113°;  and  constantly  occurs  in  the  desert 
region  south  of  the  Columbia,  and  between  the  Cascade  range  and  the 
Rocky  mountains,  as  far  south  as  lat.  34°.  The  branches,  when  old,  be- 
come spiny,  as  in  many  other  plants  of  this  family. 

Since  the  description  of  this  genus  was  published  in  the  first  report, 
(March,  1S43,)  Nees  has  given  it  the  name  of  Sarcobatus;  and  Dr.  Seu- 
bert  has  published  an  account  of  it,  with  a figure,  in  the  Botaniache  Zei- 
ticng  for  1844.  This  we  have  not  yet  seen;  but,  from  the  remarks  of  Dr. 
Lindley,  who  has  given  a note  on  the  genus  in  Hooker’s  Journal  of  Botany 
for  January,  1845,  it  would  seem  that  some  doubt  existed  among  European 
botanists  as  to  its  affinities,  as  they  had  not  seen  the  ripe  seeds.  These  we 
have  long  possessed,  and  unhesitatingly  referred  it  to  Chenopodiacies.  We 
regret  that  our  sketches  of  the  staminate  flowers  were  mislaid  when  the 
artist  was  engraving  the  figure. 

. Obione  confertifolia.  Torr.  and  Fr'em . 

Stem  pubescent,  much  branched,  erect ; leaves  alternate,  ovate,  rather 
obtuse,  petiolate,  much  crowded,  entire,  somewhat  coriaceous,  white  with 
a mealy  crust ; bracts  broadly  ovate,  obtuse,  entire,  and  the  sides  without 
appendages  or  tubercles. 

A small  shrub,  with  rigid  crooked  and  somewhat  spinescent  branches, 
and  of  a whitish  aspect.  Leaves  varying  from  one-third  to  half  an  inch  in 
length,  abruptly  narrowed  at  the  base  into  a petiole,  thickly  clothed  with  a 
white  mealy  substance. 

Flowers  apparently  dioecious.  Sterile  not  seen.  Bracts  of  the  fruit  3 — 4 
lines  long,  united  about  half  way  up,  distinct  above,  indurated  at  the  base. 
Styles  .distinct.  Pericarp  very  thin.  Seed  roundish-ovate,  rostellate  up- 
ward; the  testa  coriaceous.  Embryo  two -thirds  of  a circle. 

On  the  borders  of  the  Great  Salt  lake.  From  the  description  of  0.  cori- 
acea , Moq.,  our  plant  seems  to  be  a near  ally  of  that  species. 

Pterochiton.  Torr.  and  Frtm. — n.  gen. 

Flowers  dioecious.  Staminate  ....  Pistillate.  Perigonium 
ovoid-tubular,  4-winged,  2-toothed  at  the  summit.  Ovary  roundish ; style 
short;  stigmas  2,  linear.  Ovule  solitary,  ascending  from  the  base  of  the 
ovary,  campulitropous.  Fructiferous  perianth  indurated,  broadly  4-winged, 
closed,  minutely  2-toothed  at  the  summit;  the  wings  veined  and  irregularly 
toothed.  Utricle  very  thin  and  membranaceous,  free.  Seed  ovate,  some- 
what compressed;  the  podosperm  lateral  and  very  distinct, rostrate  up- 
ward. Integument  double,  the  exterior  somewhat  coriaceous,  brownish, 
the  inner  one  thin.  Embryo  nearly  a circle,  surrounding  copious  mealy 
albumen. 

Pterochiton  occidentale.  Torr . and  Fr'em. 

An  unarmed  shrub,  1 — 2 feet  high,  with  numerous  slender  branches, 
which  are  clothed  with  a grayish  nearly  smooth  bark.  Leaves  alternate 
or  fasciculate,  linear  oblanceolate,  narrowed  at  the  base,  flat,  entire,  covered 
with  a whitish,  mealy  crust.  Flowers  somewhat  racemose,  on  short  pedi- 
cels. Fructiferous  calyx,  with  the  wings  2 — 3 lines  wide,  semi-orbicular, 
coriaceo-membranaceous,  mealy  like  the  leaves,  strongly  veined ; the  mar- 
gin more  or  less  toothed.  Utricle  free  from  the  indurated  cavity  of  the 
perianth,  extremely  thin  and  transparent.  Seed  conformed  to  the  utricle^ 


1 


iionxr  nwi r 


319  [ 174  ] 

the  conspicuous  podosperm  passing  along  its  side ; the  beak  pointing  ob- 
liquely upward. 

This  is  one  of  the  numerous  shrubby  plants  of  the  Chenopodiaceous 
family  that  constitute  a large  part  of  the  vegetation  in’  the  saline  soils  of 
the  west.  The  precise  locality  of  this  plant  we  cannot  indicate,  as  the  label 
was  illegible  ; but  it  was  probably  from  the  borders  of  the  Great  Salt  lake. 
It  is  allied  to  Grayia  of  Hooker  and  Arnott,  a shrub  of  the  same  family, 
which  was  found  in  several  places  on  both  sides  of  the  Rocky  mountains, 
often  in  great  abundance. 

Pinus  monophyllus.  Torr . and  Frem.  ( The  nut  pine.) 

Leaves  solitary,  or  very  rarely  in  pairs,  with  scarcely  any  sheaths,  stout 
and  rigid,  somewhat  pungent ; cones  ovoid,  the  scales  with  a thick  obtusely 
pyramidal  and  protuberant  summit,  unarmed  ; seeds  large,  without  a wing. 

A tree  with  verticil  late  branches  and  cylindrical-clavate  buds,  which  are 
about  three-fourths  of  an  inch  in  length.  The  leaves  are  from  an  inch  to 
two  and  a half  inches  long:  often  more  or  less  curved,  scattered,  very  stout, 
terete,  ( except  in  the  very  rare  case  of  their  being  in  pairs,  when  they  are 
semi-cylindrical,)  ending  in  a spiny  tip.  Cones  about  2§  inches  long,  and 
1 1 inch  broad  in  the  widest  part.  The  scales  are  of  a light-brown  color, 
thick ; the  summit  obtusely  pyramidal  and  somewhat  recurved,  but  with- 
out any  point.  The  seeds  are  oblong,  about  half  an  inch  long,  without  a 
wing  ; or  rather  the  wing  is  indissolubly  adherent  to  the  scale.  The  ker- 
nel is  of  a very  pleasant  Savor,  resembling  that  of  Pinus  Pembra. 

This  tree,  which  is  remarkable  among  the  true  pines  for  its  solitary 
leaves,  is  extensively  diffused  over  the  mountains  of  Northern  California, 
from  long.  Ill0  to  120°,  and  through  a considerable  range  of  latitude.  It 
is  alluded  to  repeatedly,  in  the  course  of  the  narrative,  as  the  nut  pine. 

The  Coniferse  of  the  collection  were  numerous,  and  suffered  less  than 
most  of  the  other  plants.  Some  of  them  do  not  appear  to  have  been  hitherto 
described.  There  was  also  an  Ephedra,  which  does  not  differ  essentially 
from  E.  occidentalism  found  in  great  plenty  on  the  sandy  uplands  of  the 
Mohahve  river. 

Description  of  the  plates. 

Plate  1.  Arctomecon  Californicum.  Fig.  1,  a stamen,  magnified; 
fig.  2,  an  ovule,  mag.;  fig.  3,  capsule,  nat.  size;  fig.  3,  («,)  stigma,  mag.; 
fig.  4,  the  same  cut  horizontally,  showing  the  sutures;  fig.  5,  a seed,  mag.; 
fig.  6,  portion  of  a hair  from  the  leaf,  mag.;  fig.  7,  bristle  from  the  extrem- 
ity of  a leaf  lobe,  mag.;  figs.  3 and  9,  leaves,  nat.  size. 

Plate  2.  Prosopis  odorata.  Fig.  1,  a flower,  mag.;  fig.  2,  pistil, 
mag;  fig.  3,  cluster  of  ripe  legumes,  nat.  size. 

Plate  3.  Fremontia  vermicularis.  Fig.  1,  a very  young  fertile 
flower,  mag.;  fig.  2,  an  ovule,  mag.;  fig.  3,  a fertile  flower  more  advanced, 
mag.;  fig.  4,  a fertile  flower  at  maturity,  showing  the  broad-winged  border 
of  the  calyx,  mag.\  fig.  5,  the  same  cut  vertically;  fig.  6,  the  same  cut 
horizontal! yj  fig.  7,  a seed,  mag.;  fig.  8,  embryo,  mag. 

Plate  4.  Pinus  monophyllus.  Fig.  1,  a bud,  nat.  size;  figs.  2,  3,  4, 
and  5,  leaves,  nat.  size ; fig.  2,  (a,)  section  of  a single  leaf;  fig.  5.,  (a,)  sec- 
tion of  a pair  of  leaves;  fig.  6,  a cone,  nat.  size;  fig.  7,  a scale,  as  seen  from 
the  outside;  fig.  8,  inside  view  of  the  same. 


. 


. ' ' 

. 

‘•v  . ' . . -J 


■ 


■ 

, . ■ . ' ■ anil 


\ 

' 


■ 

1 


• ■ ' • ■ - '''  ./• 

3 


r,  - \ * 

. 

. 


P i 


321 


[ 174  ] 


ASTRONOMICAL  OBSERVATIONS. 


The  map  which  accompanies  this  report  is  constructed  upon  Flamsteed’s  modified  projection, 
on  a scale  of  1 : 2,000,000,  and  based  upon  the  astronomical  observations  made  during  the  cam- 
paigns of  1842  and  1843-’44.  The  longitudes  are  referred  to  the  meridian  of  Greenwich,  and  de- 
pend upon  eighteen  principal  stations ; four  of  which  are  determined  by  occultations  of  fixed 
stars,  and  the  remaining  fourteen  by  eclipses  of  the  satellites  of  Jupiter.  All  the  longitudes  on 
the  map  have  been  chronometrically  referred  to  these  positions. 

In  the  course  of  the  last  exploration,  it  became  evident  that  the  longitudes  established  during 
the  campaign  of  1842  were  collectively  thrown  too  far  to  the  westward,  by  the  occultation  of  a2 
Arietis,  to  which  they  had  been  referred  by  the  chronometer.  This  occultation  took  place  at  the 
bright  limb  of  the  moon,  which  experience  has  recently  shown  to  be  deserving  of  little  com- 
parative confidence.  This  position  has  therefore  been  abandoned,  and  the  longitudes  depending 
upon  it  have  been  referred  chronometrically  to  those  established  in  1843  and  1844.  The  course 
of  the  ensuing  expedition  will  intersect  the  line  established  by  our  previous  operations,  at  various 
points,  which  it  is  proposed  to  correct  in  longitude  by  lunar  culminations,  and  such  other  absolute 
observations  as  may  be  conveniently  obtained.  Such  a position  at  the  mouth  of  the  Fontaine-qui- 
bouit,  on  the  Arkansas  river,  will  be  a good  point  of  reference  for  the  longitudes  along  the  foot  of 
the  mountains.  In  passing  by  the  Utah,  to  the  southern  portion  of  the  Great  Salt  lake,  we  shall 
have  an  opportunity  to  verify  our  longitudes  in  that  quarter  ; and  as  in  the  course  of  our  exploration 
we  shall  touch  upon  several  points  previously  determined  along  the  w-estern  limit  of  our  recent 
journey,  we  shall  probably  be  able  to  form  a reasonably  correct  frame  on  w7hich  to  base  the  con- 
struction of  a general  map  of  the  country.  In  that  now  presented,  we  have  carefully  avoided  to  lay 
down  any  thing  as  certain  which  may  not  be  found  in  the  field  books  of  our  surveys,  which  were 
greatly  facilitated  by  the  character  of  the  country  in  which  we  were  operating. 

To  the  kindness  of  Captain  Wilkes  I am  indebted  for  the  longitudes  of  Fort  Vancouver  and 
Nueva  Helvetia,  which  were  furnished  to  me  before  the  publication  of  his  map.  Our  recon- 
noissance  is  connected  with  his  surveys  by  those  positions. 

The  coast  line  of  the  Pacific  is  laid  down  according  to  the  survey  of  Vancouver  ; and  the  bay  of 
San  F r ancisco  is  reduced  from  the  copy  of  a manuscript  map  of  a detailed  survey,  in  the  possession 
of  Mr.  Sutter. 

J.  C.  FREMONT. 


21 


[ 174  ] 322 

Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes  deduced  from  the  annexed  observations 


Date. 

Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

Localities. 

1843. 

May  30 

38°  49'  41" 

94°  25'  31" 

Elm  grove. 

June  1 

39  01  16 

95  11  09 

Small  tributary  to  the  Kansas. 

4 

39  11  17 

95  56  30 

J Buck  creek,  tributary  of  the  Kansas. 

5 

39  08  24 

96  06  02 

j Elk  creek,  tributary  of  the  Kansas. 

10 

39  03  38 

96  24  56 

Encampment  on  the  Smoky  Hill  fork,  half  a mil® 

12 

39  22  12 

97  05  32 

from  its  junction  with  the  Republican. 
| Tributary  to  the  Republican  fork. 

15 

39  32  54 

98  11  41 

Tributary  to  the  Republican  fork. 

17 

39  37  38 

98  46  50 

j Tributary  to  Solomon’s  fork  of  the  Republican. 

19 

39  42  35 

99  22  03 

I 

| Tributary  to  Solomon’s  fork  of  the  Republican. 

22 

39  53  59 

100  31  30 

{ Tributary  to  Republican  fork. 

23 

39  49  28 

100  52  00 

Prairie  Dog  river.  Republican  fork. 

25 

40  05  08 

101  39  23 

! 

Small  tributary  to  the  Republican. 

28 

40  29  04 

102  44  47 

1 

i Encampment  on  a small  lake  in  the  sandy  plain 

30 

40  31  02 

103  23  29 

between  the  Republican  and  South  fork  of  the 
Platte  river. 

South  fork  of  the  Platte  river. 

July  1 

40  17  21 

104  02  00 

South  fork,  9 miles  above  mouth  of  Beaver  fork. 

7 

39  43  53 

105  24  34 

South  fork,  near  Cherry  creek. 

15 

38  15  23 

104  59  30 

Junction  of  Arkansas  and  Boiling  Spring  river*. 

18 

38  52  10 

105  22  45 

Boiling  Springs. 

21 

39  41  45 

105  25  38 

South  fork. 

23 

40  16  52 

105  12  23 

St.  Vrain’s  fort. 

30 

41  02  19 

105  35  17 

High  prairie,  broken  by  buttes  and  boulders,  with 

31 

31 

41  04  06 

41  15  02 

106  16  54 

scattered  cedars,  forming  dividing  grounde 
between  Laramie  and  Cache  a la  Poudr© 
rivers. 

Near  the  preceding. 

Laramie  river. 

August  1 
2 
2 

41  23  08 

41  45  59 

41  37  16 

106  47  25 

Stream  discharging  into  a lake. 
Fork  of  Laramie  river. 

Medicine  Bow  river. 

3 

5 

41  35  48 

41  35  59 

107  22  27 

Tributary  to  the  North  fork. 
North  fork  of  the  Platte  river. 

323 


[ 174  ] 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Date. 

Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

1843. 

August_  8 

42°  02' 

03" 

_ 

9 

42 

20 

06 

- 

9 

- 

O 

o 

50' 

07" 

10 

42 

31 

17 

- 

13 

42 

19 

53 

- 

13 

42 

18 

08 

109 

25 

55 

14 

42 

15 

11 

- 

15 

41 

53 

54 

110 

05 

05 

16 

41 

46 

54 

- 

16 

41 

37 

38 

110 

10 

28 

IT 

41 

29 

53 

110 

25 

06 

18 

41 

26 

08 

110 

45 

58 

19 

41 

34 

24 

- 

20 

41 

39 

45 

- 

21 

41 

53 

55 

- 

21 

42 

03 

47 

111 

10 

53 

22 

42 

10 

27 

- 

24 

42 

29 

05 

- 

24 

42 

36 

56 

111 

42 

08 

25 

42 

39 

57 

111 

46 

00 

29 

42 

07 

18 

- 

30 

42 

14 

22 

- 

31 

41 

59 

~S1 

- 

Sept.  2 

41 

30 

21 

112 

15 

46 

3 

41 

30 

22 

112 

19 

30 

7,  12 

41 

15 

50 

112 

06 

43 

8 

41 

11 

26 

112 

11 

30 

9 

41 

10 

42 

112 

21 

05 

10 

41 

14 

17 

Localities. 


High  plateau  between  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic 
and  the  gulf  of  California. 

Gap  in  the  Sweet  Water  mountains. 

Sweet  Water  river. 

Sweet  W ater  river. 

Near  South  pass,  on  a small  affluent  to  the  Sandy 
fork  of  Green  river. 

j Small  stream,  tributary  to  the  Little  Sandy  river. 


! Green  river,  left  bank. 

Green  river,  near  old  trading  post,  at  point  where 
the  road  to  the  Columbia  leaves  the  river. 

! Black’s  fork  of  Green  river. 

Black’s  fork. 

Small  stream,  tributary  to  Ham’s  fork. 

Muddy  river  of  Ham's  fork. 

| Muddy  river. 

Bear  river. 

| 

Bear  river. 

| Bear  river,  above  Thomas’s  fork. 

Tullick’s  fork  of  Bear  river. 

Bear  river, 
j Beer  springs. 

Entrance  of  the  beautiful  pass  with  the  remark- 
able rock. 

j Branch  of  Roseaux  or  Reed  river. 

Swampy  place,  a little  distance  from  Roseau* 
creek. 

1 Bear  river,  near  the  mouth. 

; Mouth  of  Bear  river, 
j Weber’s  fork. 

Weber’s  fork,  very  near  the  mouth, 
j Island  in  the  Great  Salt  lake. 

| Halt  in  the  Mud . 


3. 

13 

15 

17 

21 

24 

28 

29 

30 

1 

2 

3 

7 

8 

10 

12 

14 

15 

16 

18 

19 

23 

26 

28 

30 

31 

5 

5 

11 

26 


324 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

Localities. 

j 

41c 

. 42' 

43" 

112° 

05' 

12" 

Bear  river,  south  of  the  gap— a main  station. 

42 

12 

57 

112 

15 

04 

Roseaux  or  Reed  river. 

42 

44 

40 

112 

29 

52 

Pannack  river. 

43 

01 

30 

112 

29 

54 

Fort  Hall. 

42 

47 

05 

112 

40 

13 

Snake  liver,  above  the  American  falls. 

42 

29 

57 

- 

Snake  river. 

42 

26 

21 

114 

06 

04 

Rock  creek,  of  Snake  river.  * 

42 

38 

44 

114 

25 

04 

Snake  river,  opposite  to  the  River  spring. 

42 

40 

11 

114 

35 

12 

Snake  river,  2 miles  below  Fishing  falls. 

42 

53 

40 

114 

53 

04 

Snake  river. 

42 

55 

58 

115 

04 

46 

Ford  where  road  crosses  the  Snake  river. 

43 

35 

21 

115 

54 

46 

Big  Wood  river,  or  Riviere  Boisee 

43 

40 

53 

116 

22 

40 

Big  Wood  river,  or  Riviere  Boisee. 

43 

49 

22 

116 

47 

03 

Fort  Boisee. 

44 

17 

36 

116 

56 

45 

Snake  river,  below  Birch  creek. 

41 

37 

44 

117 

09 

49 

Head  water  of  Burnt  river,  (Riviere  Brulee.) 

44 

50 

32 

117 

24' 

21 

Old  bed  of  Powder  river. 

44 

59 

29 

117 

29 

22 

Powder  river. 

45 

26 

47 

117 

28 

26 

Grand  Rond. 

45 

38 

07 

117 

28  _ 

34 

Blue  mountains,  east  of  the  summit. 

45 

53 

35 

118 

00 

39 

Walahwalah  river,  foot  of  the  mountains. 

46 

03 

46 

- 

Fort  Nez  Perce. 

45 

58 

08 

- 

Noon  halt — left  bank  of  the  Columbia. 

45 

50 

05 

119 

22 

18 

Left  bank  of  the  Columbia. 

45 

44 

23 

119 

45 

09 

Left  bank  of  the  Columbia. 

45 

35 

55 

120 

55 

00 

Missionary  station  at  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 

45 

35 

21 

120 

53 

51 

Station  on  hills  in  rear  of  the  mission. 

45 

33 

09 

122 

06 

15 

Right  bank  of  the  Columbia,  1 5 miles  below  ihe 

cascades. 

45 

14 

24 

- 

1 

Large  branch  of  Fall  river,  ( Riviere  aux  Chutes .) 

27 

30 

5 

6 

7 

8 

10 

13 

16 

18 

U4 

26 

29 

31 

3 

6 

15 

18 

19 

21 

22 

23 

24 

26 

30 

5 

,19 

24 

,22 


325 


[ 174  ] 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

Localities. 

45° 

06' 

45" 

121° 

02' 

43" 

South  end  of  Taih  prairie. 

44 

35 

23 

121 

10 

25 

Main  branch  of  Fall  river. 

43 

55 

20 

- 

Fall  river,  (Union  Falls.) 

43 

44 

15 

- 

Fall  river,  (Union  Falls. ) 

43 

30 

36 

121 

33 

50 

Fall  river,  (Union  F alls. ) 

43 

17 

49 

- 

Camp  in  a pine  forest. 

42 

56 

51 

- 

Tlamath  lake. 

42 

51 

26 

121 

20 

42 

Tributary  to  the  lake  and  head  water  of  th 
Tlamath  river. 

42 

57 

22 

- 

Summer  lake. 

42 

42 

37 

- 

Summer  lake. 

42 

23 

25 

- 

Christmas  lake. 

42 

00 

09 

- 

Desert  valley  among  black  rocky  hills. 

41 

27 

50 

- 

Camp  of  the  29th  to  30th. 

41 

19 

55 

- 

New-year’s  Eve  camp. 

40 

48 

15 

- 

Camp  near  the  Mud  lake. 

40 

39 

46 

- 

Camp  near  Great  Boiling  spring. 

39 

51 

13 

- 

Pyramid  lake,  mouth  of  Salmon  Trout  river. 

39 

24 

16 

- 

Camp  on  a river  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

39 

19 

21 

- 

Camp  on  a river  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

39 

01 

53 

- 

Camp  on  a river  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

38 

49 

54 

- 

Camp  on  a river,  near  a gap. 

38 

36 

19 

_ 

Camp  on  a southern  branch  of  stream  of  encamp- 

ment of  22d  to  23d. 

38 

24 

28 

- 

Head  waters  of  a stream. 

38 

18 

01 

- 

Camp  on  a large  stream. 

38 

37 

18 

_ 

Camp  on  the  same  stream  which  we  encampe 

upon  on  the  night  of  the  18th  to  1 9th  January. 

38 

42 

26 

- 

First  camp  in  the  pass  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

38 

41 

57 

120 

25 

57 

The  Long  camp. 

38 

46 

58 

120 

34 

20 

Rio  de  los  Americanos,  (high  in  the  mountain. ) 

38 

34 

42 

- 

Nueva  Helvetia. 

26 

28 

31 

3 

4 

5 

8 

9 

10 

13 

14 

15 

18 

21 

24 

25 

29 

1 

3 

5 

6 

8 

9 

12 

19 

23 

24 

27 

28 


326 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

Localities. 

38° 

08' 

23" 

121° 

23' 

03" 

Rio  dc  los  Mukelemnes. 

38 

02 

48 

121 

16 

22 

Rio  de  las  Calaveras. 

37 

42 

26 

121 

07 

13 

Stanislaus  river. 

37 

15 

43 

120 

46 

30 

Stanislaus  river. 

37 

22 

05 

120 

58 

03 

Large  tributary  of  the  San  Joaquin,  (no  name.) 

37 

08 

00 

120 

45 

22 

San  Joaquin  river. 

36 

49 

12 

120 

38 

34 

San  Joaquin  river. 

36 

24 

50 

119 

41 

40 

Lake  fork,  (of  the  Tulares.) 

36 

08 

38 

119 

22 

02 

Small  stream  affluent  to  the  lake,  (Tulares. ) 

35 

49 

10 

118 

56 

34 

Small  stream  affluent  to  the  lake,  (Tulares.) 

35 

17 

12 

118 

35 

03 

Near  Pass  creek  in  the  mountains,  (Sierra  Ne- 

vada. ) 

35 

03 

00 

118 

18 

09 

Small  stream  east  of  the  Sierra  Nevada. 

34 

41 

43 

118 

20 

00 

Rock  spring. 

34 

27 

03 

117 

43 

21 

Spring  heads  of  a stream  among  foot  hills  of  th© 

mountain. 

34 

34 

11 

117 

13 

00 

Mohahve  river,  on  the  Spanish  trail  from  Pueblo 

de  los  Angeles  to  Santa  Fe. 

34 

56 

00 

116 

29 

19 

Mohahve  river,  on  the  Spanish  trail  from  Pueblo 
de  los  Angeles  to  Santa  Fe. 

35 

13 

08 

116 

23 

28 

Agua  de  Tomaso,  on  the  Spanish  trail. 

35 

51 

21 

- 

Hernandez  spring. 

35 

58 

19 

, _ 

Deep  Spring  hole  on  a river  which  loses  itself  in 

the  sands. 

36 

10 

20 

- 

Las  Vegas,  (the  plains. ) 

36 

38 

56 

- 

Branch  of  the  Rio  Virgen. 

36 

39 

33 

- 

Rio  Virgen. 

36 

53 

03 

- 

Rio  Virgen. 

36 

53 

40 

- 

Rio  Virgen. 

37 

28 

28 

- 

Vegas  de  Santa  Clara. 

38 

18 

20 

_ 

A fine  rolling  prairie  at  the  spring  head  of  a tribu- 

tary to  Sevier  lake. 

39 

22 

19 

- 

Sevier  river. 

39 

42 

15 

- 

First  stream  of  Utah  lake. 

40 

04 

27 

- 

Right-hand  branch  of  Spanish  fork. 

39 

55 

11 

- 

Head  of  Spanish  fork. 

30 

3 

5 

7 

8 

10 

11 

13 

14 

15 

16 

19 

22 

26 

28 

29 

2 

9 

10 

13 

17 

19 

21 

22 

23 

28 


327 


[ 174  ] 


Table  of  latitudes  and  longitudes — Continued. 


Latitudes. 

Longitudes. 

Localities. 

© 

o 

00' 

07" 

_ 

Head  of  Uintah  river. 

40 

18 

52 

112° 

18' 

30" 

Duchesne  fork. 

40 

27 

45 

109 

56 

42 

Uintah  fort. 

40 

28 

07 

109 

27 

07 

Ashley’s  fork. 

40 

46 

27 

- 

Brown’s  Hole  on  Green  river. 

40 

46 

27 

- 

Green  river  in  Brown’s  Hole. 

41 

01 

48 

- 

Elk  Head  river. 

41 

01 

11 

- 

Elk  Head  river. 

41 

18 

48 

_ 

Valley  of  the  North  fork  of  Platte,  (foot  of  the 

mountains. ) 

41 

08 

16 

- 

' 

Valley  of  the  North  fork  of  Platte,  (higher.) 

40 

52 

44 

- 

New  Park. 

40 

33 

22 

- 

New  Park. 

.39 

57 

26 

- 

Old  Park,  fork  of  Grand  river. 

39 

20 

24  | 

_ 

Entrance  of  bayou  Salade — head  of  F ontaine-qui» 

bouit  ? South  fork  of  the  Platte  ? 

38 

39 

22 

- 

Small  affluent  to  the  Arkansas. 

38 

23 

48 

- 

A larger  affluent  to  the  Arkansas. 

38 

15 

23 

- 

Junction  of  Arkansas  and  F ontaine-qui-bouit 

rivers. 

38 

02 

08 

• 

- 

Near  Bent’s  fort  on  the  Arkansas  river. 

38 

51 

15 

- 

Smoky  Hill  river. 

38 

52 

22 

- 

Smoky  Hill  river. 

38 

45 

57 

- 

Smoky  Hill  river. 

38 

42 

33 

- 

Smoky  Hill  river,  below  Pawnee  village. 

38 

43 

32 

98 

17 

31 

Smoky  Hill  river. 

38 

28 

38 

- 

Three  miles  south  of  Smoky  Hill  fork. 

38 

31 

38 

- 

Between  Smoky  Hill  fork  and  the  Santa  Fe  trail. 

38 

33 

22 

- 

Santa  Fe  road. 

38 

46 

50 

98 

1 

04 

34 

Black  jack  on  the  Santa  Fe  road. 

4 


'' 

"fT. 

id/.  )h  »o 


' 


•*  7 


Jii 


. u* 


r 


. 


, S: . ■ '' 


■ 


ASTRONOMICAL  OBSERVATIONS 


MADE  DURING 


THE  EXPEDITION  OF  1843->44. 


[ 174  ] 


330 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 
Determination  of  time , May  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS.* 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun: 

*s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

. min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

12 

20 

4 

45 

20  0 

56 

45 

00 

4 

49 

07.0 

57 

54 

10 

46 

07.5 

56 

27 

50 

49 

49.0 

57 

32 

40 

47 

04.0 

56 

13 

25 

50 

27.0 

57 

17 

40 

47 

42.0 

55 

59 

00 

51 

04.7 

57 

03 

45 

48 

17.4 

55 

46 

30 

51 

37.0 

Index  error  = -J-  22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 29  50 

0 18  49.3 

Determination  of  time , May  19,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

Ji.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

51 

44 

30 

7 27 

17.0 

53 

58 

30 

7 

33 

05.0 

52 

22 

50 

28 

58.3 

54 

33 

00 

34 

36.8 

52 

50 

35 

30 

10.5 

54 

57 

50 

35 

40.0 

53 

19 

05 

31 

24.2 

55 

25 

20 

37 

16.3 

56 

01 

50 

38 

25.0 

Index  error  = -j-  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 13  59 

0 18  39 

* The  “ observations”  in  these  tables  are  given  in  civil  time. 


331 


[ 174  J 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 

Determination  of  time , May  19,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer  , 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

43 

01 

08 

5 24 

59.5 

41 

35 

35 

5 

28 

43.0 

42 

44 

40 

25 

41.0 

41 

22 

40 

29 

17.3 

42 

31 

55 

26 

14.0 

41 

08 

25 

29 

53.0 

42 

11 

10 

27 

09.3 

40 

49 

20 

30 

45.0 

41 

57 

30 

27 

45.4 

40 

25 

50 

31 

45.0 

Index  error  = — |—  1 5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

5 09  52 

0 18  21.6 

Determination  of  time , May  21,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

71 

45 

50 

8 

17 

02.0 

70 

43  20 

8 

14 

21.0 

72 

17 

50 

18 

25.6 

70 

58  40 

15 

01.0 

72 

36 

00 

19 

11.0 

71 

15  20 

15 

43.7 

72 

53 

00 

19 

56.0 

71 

29  45 

16 

20.5 

73 

05 

40 

20 

29.0 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


k.  min.  sec. 
7 59  28 


Advance. 


h.  min.  sec. 
0 17  42.9 


[ 174  ] 


332 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 

Determination  of  time , May  22,  1843 — attitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

66 

08 

40 

8 01 

33.3 

67 

47 

20 

8 

05 

49.3 

66 

34 

50 

02 

40.5 

68 

02 

10 

06 

28.0 

66 

52 

30 

03 

27.4 

68 

17 

00 

07 

05.0 

67 

05 

40 

04 

02.0 

68 

41 

00 

08 

08.0 

67 

29 

50 

05 

04.6 

69 

15 

20 

09 

38.0 

Index  error  = 4-1  min.  12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 48  06 

0 17  17.9 

Determination  of  time,  May  22,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  stin. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES, 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sxm’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

53 

42 

30 

4 

57 

52.5 

52  19 

20 

5 01  | 28.5 

53 

29 

30 

4 

58 

26.7 

52  05 

40 

02  02.6 

53 

10 

10 

4 

59 

15.5 

51  52 

10 

02  39.2 

52 

49 

50 

5 

00 

10.2 

51  40 

50 

03  06.7 

52 

34 

40 

5 

00 

49.0 

51  28 

55 

03  39.3  ] 

....  —■» 

Index  error  = 4-10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 43  53 

0 17  3.8 

333 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 

Determination  of  time , May  23,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

! Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

43 

40  i 

7 

41  31.3 

60 

25  30 

7 

45 

56.0 

59 

05 

30  j 

42  27.2 

, 60 

39  50 

46 

32.0 

59 

23 

00  ] 

43  13.3 

60 

55  00 

47 

09.5 

59 

40 

10 

43  56.7 

1 61 

12  20 

47 

56.0 

60 

01 

50 

44  53.0 

, 

61 

27  55 

48 

35.8 

Index  error  = -}-  1 min.  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 28  21 

r i 

0 16  52.27 

Determination  of  time , May  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


oiible  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer 

Deg. 

min 

. sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg 

min. 

sec . 

k. 

min . 

sec. 

63 

22 

10 

7 

52 

44  0 

64 

23 

20 

7 

55 

29.4 

63 

34 

40 

53 

15.5 

64 

36 

20 

55 

54  5 

63 

48 

50  I 

53 

53.0 

64 

45 

15 

56 

16.5 

61 

02 

55  ! 

54 

28.0 

64 

58 

10 

56 

50.7 

64 

15 

20  j 

_ 1 

55 

00.5 

| 65 

11 

20 

57 

25.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  17  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

7 38  34 

0 16  33.4 

i 1^4  ] 


334 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 

Determination  of  time , May  25,  184  3 — attitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Dg 

m'n. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

43 

58 

30 

5 

24 

22.5 

42 

38 

40 

5 

27 

52  0 

43 

42 

40 

25 

02.0 

42 

22 

25 

28 

33.5 

43 

26 

10 

25 

46.3 

42 

08 

30 

29 

ll.O 

43 

12 

00 

26 

22.0 

41 

51 

15 

29 

47.0 

43 

00 

00 

26* 

54  0 

41 

39 

15 

30 

26.0 

SECOND  SERIES. 


Index  error  = — 4 see. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  mi  • i 

'.  sec. 

5 11 

11 

0 16 

14.8 

Determination  of  time , May  26,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Dig.  min.  sec. 

h.  m>n . sec. 

64  01  20 

7 53  13.5 

6 j 43  30 

7 57  36.3 

64  25  30 

54  15  0 

j 66  01  00 

58  22  0 

64  57  50 

55  41.5 

* 66  14  00 

58  56.4 

65  12  40 

56  17  3 

66  24  40 

59  24.0 

65  33  20 

57  09.5 

1 66  38  10 

! 

69  66.7 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  5 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 40 

51 

0 16 

14.8 

335 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  KANSAS  LANDING. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  26,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

31 

00 

10 

45 

47 

75 

34 

40 

50 

54 

75 

34 

20 

52 

26 

75 

35 

00 

53 

51 

75 

35 

35 

56 

22 

Index  error  = — 4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  45  46 

10  35  42 



39  07  25 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  ELM  GROVE. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


SECOXD  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

41 

05 

15 

40 

48 

00 

40 

32 

55 

40 

17 

30 

40 

03 

30 

Time  of  chronome- 
ter. 


h.  min.  sec. 
5 31  12.0 

34  56.3 

35  35.0 

36  15.5 

36  52.2 


Index  error 


Double  altitudes  of  the  Time  of  chronometer, 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

39 

48 

20 

\ 5 

37 

33.0 

39 

37 

55  1 

38 

01.0 

39 

24 

05 

38 

36.7 

39 

1 1 

55  ! 

39 

10  0 

39 

01 

50  j 

39 

36.6 

— — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 21  21 

0 15  44. 1 

94  25  31 

[ 174  ] 


336 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  ELM  GROVE. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyras. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIBST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Lyrae. 

Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

65 

12 

10 

9 

11 

22.5 

65 

42 

50 

12 

50.0 

67 

40 

00 

9 

18 

22.0 

66 

10 

00 

14 

05.0 

68 

29 

00 

20 

38.5 

66 

41 

40 

15 

35.0 

69 

0L 

00 

22 

08.0 

67 

08 

00 

1 

16 

49.0  I 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 1 34 

0 

15 

41.2 

Determination  of  latitude , May  30,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  mm.  sec. 

74  41  10 

9 27  49 

43  10 

30  12 

41  00 

31  28 

42  50 

34  06 

43  10 

37  04 

43  00 

38  43 

43  50 

40  49 

43  40 

42  39 

44  30 

44  34 

45  10 

46  27 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Dg.  min. 

sec. 

37  20  14 

9 21  43 

38  49 

41 

337 


[ 174  l 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  KANSAS  RIVER, 
Determination  of  latitude , June  1,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

' OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

75  07  40 

9 40  54 

75  08  10 

42  39 

75  09  10 

44  52 

75  09  20 

46  38 

75  10  00 

48  33 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

D°g.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  33  05 

9 26  . 53 

39  01  16 

Determination  of  longitude , June  1,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

r » ? 

~ 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

76 

01 

50 

9 35 

12.5 

76 

36 

50 

36 

55.0 

w 

77 

00 

40 

.37 

59.5 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

♦ 


V d / 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
9 18  49 

h . min.  sec. 
0 17  53 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
95  11  09 

22 


[ 174  ] 338 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BLACK  CREEK,  A TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  KANSAS. 

Determination  of  latitude , 4,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

15  28  45 

9 32  00 

75  28  00 

35  13 

75  30  00 

37  00 

75  30  00 

38  56 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

D g.  min. 

sec. 

37  41  13 

9 16  10 

39  11 

17 

Determination  of  longitude , 4,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 




Double  altitudes  of  a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

82  46  50 

9 43  32.5 

84  16  20 

47  41.0 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min.  sec. 
9 25  58 


Advance. 


A.  min. 
0 19 


sec. 

38.5 


Longitude. 


Deg.  min. 
95  56 


see. 

30 


339 


C »?4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  ELK  CREEK,  A TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  KANSAS. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  5,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

- 1 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min,  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

44  23  10 

5 33  14.0 

42  43  30 

5 37  37.0 

45  58  25 

34  19.5 

42  27  50 

38  19.4 

43  43  00 

35  00.0 

42  1 1 35 

39  02.5 

43  32  30 

35  27.5 

4 1 52  40 

39  51.6 

43  21  50 

35  57.5 

41  42  10 

40  21.5 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg . min.  sec. 

5 17  00 

0 

19 

54.7 

96  06  02 

Determination  of  latitude , June  5,  1813 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

i Time  of  chronometer. 

Drg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

55 

40 

10 

56 

28 

75 

56 

50 

58 

53 

75 

57 

20 

11 

01 

15 

75 

58 

55 

02 

52 

75 

59 

00 

04 

53 

76 

00 

30 

06 

52 

76 

01 

10 

08 

42 

76 

01 

45 

10 

04 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

' 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg , jpin.  sec. 

37  58  15 

10  43  50 

39  08  24 

340 


[ 174  ] 

JJeterrninalion  of  latitude,  June  9,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec.  + 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

31 

40 

10 

19 

4S 

75  . 

35 

50 

22 

53 

75 

36 

40 

26 

32 

75 

38 

00 

29 

07 

75 

39 

40 

32 

46 

75 

40 

35 

35 

52 

< 

Index  error  = — 15  see. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

. Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  see. 

h.  min.  sec . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  47  23 

10  08  . 25 

39  03  22 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  9,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

29 

51 

15 

6 

23 

05.5 

31 

24 

10 

27 

19.0 

32 

00 

20 

28 

55.0 

32 

21 

15 

29 

51.0 

32 

43 

05 

SO 

50  0 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude.  ^ 

h.  min.  sec. 
6 08  39 

h.  min.  sec. 
0 19  21.6 

; 

341 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SMOKY  HILL  FORK,  HALF  A MILE  FROM  ITS  JUNC- 
TION WITH  THE  REPUBLICAN. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  10,  1843 — attitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

see. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k.  min. 

sec. 

54 

47 

40 

5 07 

2i.O 

52 

39 

40 

5 12 

53.6 

54 

03 

55 

09 

14.4 

52 

23 

00 

13 

37.5 

53 

36 

55 

10 

25.5 

51 

39 

45 

15 

33.5 

53 

19 

10 

11 

12.5 

51 

24 

30 

16 

10.6 

52 

59 

15 

12 

04.4 

50 

59 

15 

17 

17.0 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sc. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

4 53  30 

0 19  04.5 

96  24  56 

Determination  of  latitude , June  10,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

m ;n. 

sec. 

75 

21 

15 

9 

38 

29 

75 

21 

30 

41 

35 

75 

22 

40 

46 

06 

75 

23 

50 

47 

36 

75 

24 

00 

48 

52 

75 

21 

45 

50 

28 

75 

25 

00 

62 

01 

75 

26 

30 

53 

18 

75 

26 

30 

54 

43 

75 

27 

15 

57 

17 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Drg.  min. 

se r. 

37  40 

50 

9 30  03 

39  03 

38 

342 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SMOKY  HILL  FORK,  HALF  A MILE  FROM  ITS  JUNC- 
TION WITH  THE  REPUBLICAN. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  10,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

De%.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

71  47  50 

10  10  48  5 

72  36  00 

13  13  5 

73  05  20 

14  45  0 

73  40  00 

16  32.0 

74  16  15 

18  20.0 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  12,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Dee;. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

09 

00 

10 

01 

42 

76 

10 

00 

04 

49 

76 

10 

30 

07 

19 

76 

11 

50 

08 

55 

76 

12 

20 

11 

02 

76 

12 

30 

12 

30 

76 

12 

50 

14 

48 

Index  error  = — 12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

D°ir.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Dee;. 

min.  sec. 

38  04  18 

9 

47  51 

39 

22  12 

343 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  longitude , June  12,  1843 — ulliludes  of  a Jiquilde. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

54 

29 

00 

10 

33 

54.5 

55 

30 

30 

36 

35  4 

56 

15 

20 

38 

35.0 

Index  error  = — 12  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  15  29 

0 

20  52.6 

97  05  32 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  longitude , June  15,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

48 

25 

5 

55 

29.5 

51 

06 

30 

5 

59 

58  0 

52 

33 

35 

56 

06.0 

50 

53 

30 

6 

00 

29.6 

51 

57 

35 

57 

44.0 

50 

40 

45 

01 

04.0 

51 

32 

20 

58 

48.0 

50 

30 

15 

01 

32.3 

51 

20 

55 

59 

18.0 

50 

19 

00 

02 

02.6 

Index  error  = — 18  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  see. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

4 59  33 

0 

59  44.6 

98  11  41 

344 


l 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  15,  1 S-4 3 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

21 

30 

10 

07 

00 

76 

22 

00 

08 

21 

76 

22 

25 

09 

51 

76 

23 

20 

11 

15 

76 

23 

40 

12 

15 

76 

23 

30 

13 

17 

76 

24 

00 

14 

44 

76 

25 

00 

17 

37 

76 

25 

25 

19 

19 

76 

27 

10 

21 

31 

Index  error  = — 12  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  10  34 

9 13  50 

39  32  54 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  SOLOMON’S  FORK  OF  THE  REPUBLICAN. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  17,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

m>n. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

76 

37 

50 

10 

16 

56 

76 

38 

20 

18 

41 

76 

38 

30 

20 

25 

76 

39 

20 

22 

33 

76 

39 

50 

23 

40 

76 

40 

10 

25 

46 

76 

40 

40 

26 

50 

76 

41 

20 

28 

11 

76 

42 

00 

29 

41 

76 

42 

10 

30 

50 

Index  error  = — 14  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

D g.  min.  sec. 

38  18  39 

9 23  32 

39  37  38 

3-15 


[ >74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  SOLOMON’S  FORK  OF  THE  REPUBLICAN. 

Determination  of  time , June  17,  184:3 — altitudes  of  a Aquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilas. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  mm.  sec. 

61  10  50 

11  12 

46.5 

61  40  00 

14 

07.5 

62  57  50 

17 

35.5 

63  19  20 

18 

35.0 

63  5 

50 

20 

02.5 

64  25  00 

21 

34.0 

Index  error 

■ = — 14  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

10  16  36 

1 00 

50.4 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  TRIBUTARY  TO  SOLOMON’S  FORK. 

Determination  of  time , June  19,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

• 

OBSERVATIONS. 

FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

j sun’s  lower  limb. 

D°g.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

42  24  05 

6 26  54.5 

41  05  10 

6 30  22  5 

42  08  10 

2?  365 

40  52  40 

30  59.0 

41  54  50 

28  13  0 

40 ' 40  45 

31  31.5 

41  42  30 

28  46.3 

40  14  50 

32  40.0 

41  31  15 

29  15.0 

40  04  10 

33  08  5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

5 27 

46 

1 02  10 

346 


[ 174  ] 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  TRIBUTARY  TO  SOLOMON’S  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude^  June  19,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

43 

35 

10 

01 

50 

76 

46 

40 

08 

48 

76 

48 

40 

14 

36 

76 

50 

00 

19 

28 

76 

51 

20 

22 

14 

Index  error  ==■  — 10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  2-2  42 

9 11  13 

39  42  35 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 

Determination  of  time . June  22,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Aquilx. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquilae. 

Aquilae. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

49  29  10 

10  26  37.0 

54  32  10 

10  39  58.0 

50  18  50 

28  48.0 

55  18  20 

42  02.0 

51  41  00 

32  * 24.0 

56  15  50 

44  34.5 

l 

Index  error  ==  -|-  1 min.  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

# 

9 30  42 

1 

05  01.5 

347 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  22,  1813 — altitudes  of  Polaris - 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

30 

00 

10 

50 

14 

77 

30 

30 

52 

05  ( 

77 

32 

20 

53 

24 

77 

32 

30 

54 

27 

77 

33 

20 

56 

10 

Index  error  = -f~  1 min.  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  45  22 

9 48  15 

39  53  59 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  PRAIRIE  DOG  RIVER,  TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  time,  June  23,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Cygni . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


1 

Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

64 

20 

00 

10 

09 

43  0 

64 

48 

50 

11 

12  5 

65 

20 

50 

12 

49.7 

65 

51 

30 

i 

14 

25.0 

66 

24 

40 

16 

10.0 

Index  error  ==  — 10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

9 07  02 

1 05 

50.5 

348 


L 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  PRAIRIE  DOG  RIVER,  TRIBUTARY  TO  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  23,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Dpg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

77  21  20 

10  44  33 

77  21  30 

45  45 

77  22  • 45 

46  59 

77  23  40 

48  55 

77  25  40 

52  05 

77  26  00 

53  59 

77  28  10 

55  30 

77  28  10 

57  49 

77  30  00 

59  58 

77  30  00 

11  01  40 

; 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

38  41  34 

9 46  53 

39 

49 

28 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  time , June  25,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Cygni „ 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

11 

45 

10 

36 

28.0 

75 

40 

00 

37 

56.0 

76 

14 

00 

39 

39.5 

Index  error  — — 10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min. 
9 30 


sec. 

09 


Advance. 


mm. 

07 


sec . 
51.8 


349 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  REPUBLICAN  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  25,  1S43 — ullitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSEHVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

78  10  00 

11  10  03 

78  10  40 

12  02 

78  11  50 

14  02 

78  J4  20 

15  50 

78  15  30 

18  36 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitu  le. 

Deg.  m>n.  see.. 
39  04  57 

h.  min.  sec. 

10  06  15 

D g.  min.  se  •. 
40  05  08 

2NCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  LAKE  IN  THE  SANDY  PLAIN  BETWEEN  THE 
REPUBLICAN  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  time,  June  28,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Jlquilse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

D<g. 

min. 

sec. 

h 

m’n. 

sec. 

59 

35 

00 

10 

36 

08.0 

60 

28 

50 

38 

34.0 

61 

15 

10 

40 

42.0 

62 

06 

10 

43 

01.0 

63 

01 

40 

45 

33.0 

Index  error  = — 20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

• 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

m’n. 

sec. 

9 

30  15 

1 

10 

32 

350 


[ >74  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  LAKE  IN  THE  SANDY  PLAIN  BETWEEN  THE 
REPUBLICAN  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  2S,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

52 

00 

10 

50 

44 

78 

53 

40 

53 

06 

78 

55 

20 

54 

49 

78 

56 

00 

56 

33 

78 

56 

30 

58 

56 

78 

57 

30 

11 

01 

07 

78 

59 

00 

02 

36 

78 

59 

20 

04 

11 

79 

01 

10 

06 

24 

79 

01 

25 

07 

33 

Index  error  = — 20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  27  15 

9 49  04 

40  29  04 

Determination  of  latitude,  June  2S,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of a Aquilse. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  m>n.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

116  01  50 

58  00  30 

40  27  24 

351 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  tirfie , June  30,  1843 — altitude  of  the  sun  W, 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h . min.  sec , 

50  25  25 

6 18  34.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  27  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h . min.  sec. 

5 06  28 


hm 

1 


Advance. 


min.  sec. 
12  05.9 


Determination  of  latitude — meridian  altitude  of  a Jlquilse . 


OBSERVATION. 

Double  altitude  of  a Aquilae. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg . min.  sec. 

115  54  50 

57  56  32 

40  31  02 

352 


[ 174  ] 

fncampment  on  the  south  fork  of  the  platte  river,  nine  miles 

ABOVE  THE  MlUTH  OF  BEAVER  FORK. 

Determination  of  time , July  1,  1843— altitudes  of  a rfquilae. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Drg. 

ruin. 

see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

61 

16 

00 

10 

37 

3 \0 

63 

56 

30 

39 

22.0 

6 1 

21 

25 

40 

33.6 

64 

52 

00 

41 

58  0 

65 

47 

45 

44 

30.5 

Index  error  = — 34  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


mm. 

26 


src. 

47 


Advance. 


mm. 

14 


sec. 

00  6 


Determination  of  latitude,  July  \,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


D fr. 

min. 

sec . 

78 

33 

10 

78 

35 

50 

78 

36 

25 

78 

38 

50 

78 

39 

30 

78 

42 

00 

78 

42 

00 

78 

43 

10 

78 

41 

30 

78 

46 

10 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

src. 

10 

52 

02 

• 

53 

48 

55 

30 

57 

52 

59 

44 

11 

02 

53 

05 

33 

07 

17 

08 

56 

11 

35 

Index  error  ==  — 34  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Drg.  min.  sec , 

h.  min.  sec. 

D g.  min.  sec. 

39  18  37 

9 47  31 

40  17  21 

353 


[ 174  ] 


Sr.  VRAIN’S  FORT, 

Determination  of  longitude , July  4,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


EIIIST  SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SEEIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the  ! 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

i 

sun’s  lower 

limb. 

Deg . 

min.  sec. 

L 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

53 

20  00 

6 

14 

45.0 

51 

42 

50 

6 19 

017 

53 

02  20 

15 

29.5 

51 

29 

00 

19 

39  0 

52 

49  50 

16 

03  5 

50 

37 

30 

21 

56.0 

52 

26  55 

17 

04.0 

50 

09 

00 

23 

12.0 

52 

13  00 

17 

41.0 

49 

56 

40 

23 

45.0 

Index  error  = — 47  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

4 57  50 

1 17  05.9 

105  12  23 

# 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  NEAR  CHERRY 

CREEK. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  7,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min,  sec. 

77  14  30 

10  07  56 

77  15  00 

09  52 

Index  error  = — 2 min.  13  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude, 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec , 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  36  09 

8 52  54 

39  43  53 

23 


354 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Dete?'?ninatiun  of  longitude,  July  8,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

see . 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

17 

14 

50 

6 

50 

44.0 

19  46 

25 

6 

57 

48.3 

17 

55 

10 

52 

34.5 

20  00 

00 

58 

26.0 

18 

45 

10 

54 

56.5 

20  12 

50 

59 

01.3 

19 

05 

45 

55 

54.0 

20  22 

25 

59 

29.0 

19 

30 

15 

57 

02.5 

20  37 

20 

7 

00 

11.0 

Index  error  = — 29  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

' - - 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

5 36  05 

1 

15  55.1 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  11,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

see. 

44 

35 

50 

6 

30 

23.0 

41 

35 

10 

6 

38 

18.6 

44 

14 

50 

31 

17.0 

41 

15 

30 

39 

10.0 

44 

00 

40 

31 

55.0 

41 

00 

45 

39 

49.2 

43 

48 

20 

32 

27.7 

40 

44 

20 

40 

33.5. 

43 

26 

30 

33 

26.0 

40 

31 

30 

41 

07.4 

Index  error  = — 37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

• Longitude. 

* f 

355 


[ 174-] 


Determination  of  latitude,  July  1 3, 1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris \ 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

74  44  10 

9 48  54 

74  45  30 

50  45 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
•RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

' 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  13, 1S43 — altitudes  of  * a Cygni . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

22 

40 

9 

54 

55.0 

85 

18 

50 

57 

32.0 

85 

56 

10 

59 

17.5 

86 

32 

40 

10 

00 

59.0 

87 

19 

50 

03 

13.0 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

-■ 

1 

356 


[ 174  ] 


JUNCTION  OF  ARKANSAS  AND  BOILING  SPRING  RIVERS. 

Determination  of  longitude , July  15,  1843 — altitudes  oj  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

41 

51 

15 

7 

58 

03  0 

43 

18 

40 

8 

01 

50.2 

42 

14 

00 

59 

01.0 

43 

33 

40 

02 

28  4 

42 

28 

CO 

59 

37.6 

43 

48 

30 

0‘L 

07.2 

42 

43 

20 

8 

00 

18.0 

44 

05 

35 

03 

50.5 

42 

56 

30 

00 

52.0 

44 

20 

40 

04 

30.3 

Index  error  = + 2 min.  9 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Jl. 

6 


Mean  time. 


min.  sec. 
45  34 


h. 

I 


Advance. 


min. 

10 


sec. 

13.5 


Longitude. 


Deg.  min. 
104  58 


sec. 

30 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BOILING  SPRINGS. 

Determination  of  longitude , July  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer.  ' 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

101 

00 

10 

10  32 

12  5 

101 

21 

00 

32 

59.3 

102 

05 

55 

34 

56.2 

102 

20 

20 

35 

35.0 

102 

34 

40 

36 

12.3 

Index  error  — -|-  1 min*  50  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 18  35 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 09  58.5 

Deg.  min. 
105  22 

sec. 

45 

357 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BOILING  SPRINGS. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  IS,  1843 — distance  from  the  moon9s 

second  limb  to  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


11 


Apparent  distance. 


min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

49 

10 

99 

45 

50 

50 

44 

99 

45 

30 

52 

01 

99 

44 

20 

53 

10 

99 

44 

00 

54 

29 

99 

43 

25 

55 

55 

99 

42 

45 

57 

03 

99 

42 

15 

58 

31 

99 

42 

10 

59 

32 

99 

41 

20 

00 

42 

99 

40 

55 

02 

03 

99 

40 

25 

03 

16 

99 

40 

00 

04 

39 

99 

39 

30 

06 

05 

99 

38 

50 

07 

45 

99 

38 

10 

08 

50 

99 

37 

55 

10 

05 

99 

37 

05 

10 

59 

99 

37 

20 

11 

58 

99 

36 

35 

13 

17 

99 

35 

40 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

99  26  33 

16  50  47 

[ 174  ] 


358 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BOILING  SPRINGS. 


Determination  of  longitude , July  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

136 

48 

10 

2 

10 

30.0 

136 

28 

50 

11 

49.5 

136 

11 

40 

12 

59.0 

135 

58 

50 

13 

51.0 

135 

48 

25 

14 

33.0 

Index  error  — -J-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance; 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

k 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

1 02  49 

1 

09  55.3 

105  22  45 

I 

359  [ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  BOILING  SPRINGS. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  IS,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

39 

10 

11 

01 

04 

76 

40 

00 

03 

17 

76 

41 

50 

04 

59 

76 

40 

10 

06 

20 

76 

45 

20 

12 

04 

76 

47 

30 

14 

32 

76 

51 

50 

18 

53 

76 

51 

50 

20 

31 

76 

53 

20 

22 

14 

Index  error  — — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  21  22 

10  01  43 

38  52  10 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  Jlrcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

* 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

j Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

89 

14 

30 

10 

45 

57.0 

88 

29 

10 

47 

48.5 

73 

50 

00 

11 

25 

36.0 

87 

40 

45 

49 

57.0 

73 

18 

40 

26 

54.0 

87 

06 

10 

51 

22.0 

! 72 

44 

15 

28 

23.0 

86 

41 

30 

52 

30.0 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

11  08  14 

1 

09  45.8 

C 174  ] 


360 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BOILING  SPRINGS. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  19,  1843 — distance  from  the  moon’s 

second  limb  to  Jupiter. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

Apparent  distance. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

5 

39 

03 

59 

41 

30 

42 

27 

59 

43 

40 

44 

26 

59 

44 

30 

4& 

24 

59 

45 

30 

50 

07 

59 

46 

10 

51 

. 41 

59 

45 

50 

Index  error  — — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  21,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

18 

10 

10 

48 

27 

78 

19 

20 

10 

50 

56 

78 

20 

20 

10 

52 

22 

78 

21 

40 

10 

54 

27 

78 

22 

50 

10 

55 

18 

78 

24 

10 

10 

57 

43 

78 

26 

50 

10 

59 

11 

78 

27 

00 

11 

01 

59 

78 

29 

60 

11 

05 

07 

78 

30 

40 

11 

06 

06 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec.  ** 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  10  36 

9 

48  52 

39  41  45 

361  [ 174  J 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  21,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

41 

40 

11 

09 

52.0 

71 

53 

40 

11 

17 

07.8 

73 

51 

00 

12 

00.2 

71 

35 

45 

17 

57.7 

73 

26 

15 

13 

07.5 

71 

12 

30 

18 

55.5 

73 

04 

20 

14 

05.3 

70 

49 

50 

19 

55.0 

72 

40 

50 

15 

03.6 

70 

28 

45 

20 

53.0 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  07  36 

1 08  17.7 

105  25  38 

[ 174  ] 


362 


ST.  VRAIN’S  FORT. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  23,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

f 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

49 

20 

11 

04 

32 

79 

49 

50 

06 

31 

79 

49 

00 

07 

44 

79 

51 

30 

10 

30 

79 

52 

30 

12 

21 

79 

56 

40 

15 

57 

79 

59 

15 

18 

06 

80 

00 

00 

20 

40 

80 

01 

50 

22 

39 

80 

02 

25 

24 

00 

Index  error  — — 37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


* — 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  56  09 

10  07  44 

40  17  12 

Determination  of  latitude , July  23,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  a Jtquilse. 


OBSERVATION. 

Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

116  22  35 

58  11  06 

40  16  33 

363 


[ 174  ] 


ST.  VEAIN’S  FORT. 

Determination  of  time , July  23,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus , 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg, 

. min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

63 

59 

30 

11 

27 

59 

60 

18 

20 

11 

37 

40 

63 

23 

20 

29 

34 

59 

54 

00 

38 

39 

62 

43 

10 

31 

16 

59 

31 

30 

39 

37 

62 

02 

20 

33 

06 

59 

12 

25 

40 

27 

61 

24 

40 

34 

44 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  .min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

10  28  40 

1 06  32.5 

Determination  of  time , July  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

53 

29 

50 

8 

28 

16.4 

54 

42 

50 

8 

31 

26.0 

53 

44 

50 

28 

54.0 

54 

57 

50 

32 

08  2 

54 

00 

20 

29 

35.5 

55 

07 

50 

32 

34.0 

54 

11 

50 

30 

05.0 

55 

16 

50 

32 

56.8 

54 

29 

25 

30 

51.6 

55 

28 

15 

33 

26.5 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

k.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

7 24  51 

1 

06  10.5 

C 174  ] 


364 


ST.  VR AIN’S  FORT.* 

Determination  of  time , July  25,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

43 

33 

45 

8 02 

03.2 

44 

34 

50 

8 

04 

45.0 

43 

48 

30 

02 

42.0 

44 

45 

40 

05 

14.0 

44 

01 

00 

03 

16.0 

44 

58 

10 

05 

47.0 

44 

10 

50 

03 

42.0 

45 

11 

50 

06 

22.0 

44 

21 

30 

04 

08.0 

45 

22 

15 

06 

49.5 

Index  error  = 1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec . 

k.  min.  sec. 

6 58  57 

1 05  31.8 

* The  daily  losing  rate  of  the  chronometer,  obtained  from  the  observations  at  this  place,  is33".722B 


365 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A HTGH  PRAIRIE,  BROKEN  BY  BUTTES  AND  BOTJLDRRS, 
WITH  SCATTERED  CEDARS,  FORMING  THE  DIVIDING  GROUNDS  BET  WEEN 
LARAMIE  AND  CACHE-A  LA  POUDRE  RIVERS. 

A 

Determination  of  longitude , July  30,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Frnsx  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Arc  turns. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

47  50  00 

11 

40 

39.5 

45  46  30 

11 

46 

07.0 

46  56  40 

43 

00.5 

45  05  40 

47 

55.5 

46  27  40 

44 

15.5 

44  45  20 

48 

50.0 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT 

OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

D°g.  min.  sec. 

10  41  18 

1 

03  53.2 

105  35  17 

Determination  of  latitude.  July  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

20 

00 

11 

55 

14 

82 

21 

00 

57 

39 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  10  00 

10  52  33 

41  02  19 

[ 174  ] 


366 


ENCAMPMENT  NEAR  THE  PRECEDING. 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  31,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  the  sun» 


OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

133  56  30 

67  14  27 

41 

04  06 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  LARAMIE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  31,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


i 

FIRST  SERIES. 

* 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude's  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Polaris. 

Polaris. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

81 

30 

30 

10 

13 

25 

81 

41 

10 

10 

23 

51 

81 

30 

00 

15 

38 

81 

41 

45 

29 

43 

81 

32 

05 

17 

57 

81 

42 

00 

30 

32 

81 

32 

50 

19 

25 

81 

43 

00 

31 

40 

81 

35 

00 

21 

04 

81 

46 

40 

34 

35 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

40  47  22 

9 

19  19 

41  15  02 

367 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  LARAMIE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  31,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus 

Arcturus. 

De^. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

35 

40 

10 

40 

16.5 

67 

38 

40 

10 

45 

27.3 

69 

11 

50 

41 

18.0 

66 

49 

50 

47 

36.3 

68 

49 

50 

- • 

42 

16.0 

66 

28 

20 

48 

35.0 

68 

20 

50 

43 

35.5 

65 

46 

10 

50 

27.0 

68 

00 

00 

44 

30.4 

65 

21 

30 

51 

30.5 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 

40  26 

1 05  07.7  1 

1 106  16  54 

NOON  HALT  ON  A STREAM  DISCHARGING  INTO  A LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  1,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  the  sun* 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

i 

i 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

132  49  45 

66  41  03 

41  23  08 

Index  error  = 4-  1 min.  30  sec. 


I 174  ] 


368 


NOON  HALT  ON  A FORK  OF  LARAMIE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude,  August  2,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  the  sun, 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

1.31  33  20 

66  02  50 

1 

41  45  59 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  30  sec. 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  MEDICINE  BOW  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  2,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

83 

53 

40 

12  14 

40 

83 

56 

30 

17 

15 

83 

56 

50 

18 

34 

83 

57 

20 

19 

50 

83 

58 

40 

21 

06 

84 

00 

00 

22 

11 

84 

00 

20 

23 

24 

84 

01 

15 

24 

15 

84 

02 

30 

25 

15 

84 

03 

30 

29 

18 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

41  58  12 

11  14  34 

41  37 

16 

369 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  MEDICINE  BOW  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , August  2,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  Arc- 

Time 

of  chronom- 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

turus. 

eter. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg 

. min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

47 

12 

00 

11 

33 

58.4 

42 

57 

30 

11 

45 

21 

46 

47 

50 

34 

58.5 

42 

27 

50 

46 

40 

46 

13. 

40 

36 

32.0 

42 

05 

10 

47 

39 

45 

53 

30 

37 

26.0 

41 

47 

50 

48 

28 

45 

20 

40 

38 

55.7 

1 41 

1 

27 

50 

• 

49 

22 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

% 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

10  34  59 

1 06  57. 1 

Immersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec . 

Deg.  min . sec. 

11  01  28 

9 54  31 

106  48  21 

24 


I 


[ 174  ] 370 


NOON  HALT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  3,  1843—  sun’s  meridian  altitude. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

131  23  00 

65  57  40 

41  35  48 

Index  error  = -f  1 min.  30  seer 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

4 Determination  of  longitude , August  5,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

see. 

50 

32 

45 

8 

30 

39.0 

51 

t 29 

00 

8 

33 

06.3 

50 

46 

55 

31 

12.0 

51 

39 

10 

33 

33.5 

50 

57 

40 

31 

40.3 

51 

51 

20 

34 

05.0 

51 

09 

10 

32 

12.5 

52 

01 

20  1 

34 

32.0 

51 

19 

50 

32 

41.0 

52 

10 

50  j 

34 

56.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  47  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 
7 24  51 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 08  01.3 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
107  22  27 

Determination  of  latitude — meridian  altitude  of  the  sun. 

Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
130  18  45 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
65  25  37 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
41  35  59 

371 


[ 174  ] 

NOON  HALT  ON  A HIGH  PLATEAU  BETWEEN  THE  WATERS  OF  THE  AT- 
LANTIC AND  THE  GULF  OF  CALIFORNIA. 


j Determination  of  latitude,  August  8, 1843—  meridian  altitude  of  the  sun » 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  cential  altitude. 

• 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec , 
127  47  15 

Deg.  min.  sec . 
64  09  38 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
42  02  07 

Index  error  = 1 min,  42  sec. 

NOON  HALT  AT  THE  GAP  IN  THE  SWEET  WATER  MOUNTAINS. 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  9,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  the  sum 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

Drg.  min,  sec , 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

126  36  35 

63  34  30 

42  20  06 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  40  sec. 


C n*  ] 


372 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , August  0,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Jupiter . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

• 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Jupiter. 

Jupiter. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

51 

06  10 

11 

30 

23.6 

52 

18  " 

30 

11 

36 

11.3 

51 

25  50 

31 

56.5 

52 

32 

30 

37 

24.4 

51 

40  00 

33 

05.0 

52 

45 

10 

' 

38 

24.0 

51 

53  30 

34 

12.0 

52 

58 

30 

39 

28.5 

52 

07  50 

35 

18.0 

53 

11 

00 

40 

33.3 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

10  28  28 

1 07  14,1 

Immersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite . 


Observed  time.  1 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

12  52  23 

11  45  11 

107  50  25 

373 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude,  August  9,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Aquilx . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

Ill  22  40 

1 11  03  20 


Index  error  = — 30  sec. 

\ 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

11 

59 

58 

12 

04 

33 

NOON  HALT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude,  Aug.  10, 1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

125  40  10 

1 12  52 

125  40  25  % 

13  43 

1 25  39  50 

14  26 

125  39  25 

15  20 

125  38  20 

16  12 

125  38  10 

16  51 

125  37  20 

17  37 

125  37  00 

18  07 

I 


Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

I 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

63  05  55 

1 14  01 

42  31  17 

374 


[ 174  ] 

NOON  HALT  NEAR  THE  SOUTH  PASS,  ON  A SAT  ALL  AFFLUENT  TO  THE 
SANDY  FORK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude,  August  13,  1843 — meridian  altitude  of  the 

sun. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sunk 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  see. 

124  14  45 

52  23  25 

1 

42 

19  53 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM  TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  LITTLE  SANDY 

RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude.  August  13,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arc  turns. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


PIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

10 

00 

9 

56 

15.0 

67 

35 

40 

10 

00 

30.0 

68 

49 

50 

57 

10.0 

67 

16 

20 

01 

23.5  * 

4>8 

30 

20 

58 

01.6 

66 

57 

45 

02 

13.2 

68 

12 

10 

58 

52.3 

66 

38 

50 

03 

05.5 

67 

53 

50 

59 

40.0 

66 

17 

30 

04 

03.0 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION.* 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

8 48  39 

1 11  27.9 

109  25  55 

t 


375 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM  TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  LITTLE  SANDY 

RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude , August  13, 1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time^^hronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

83 

46 

10 

9 41 

35 

83 

45 

40 

43 

10 

83 

47 

00 

44 

38 

83 

47 

10 

46 

04 

83 

48 

30 

47 

15 

83 

49 

50 

48 

22 

83 

51 

50 

50 

05 

83 

51 

50 

50 

58 

83 

52 

40 

51 

43 

83 

53 

30 

52 

39 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.-  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

41  53  23 

8 36  12 

42  18  08 

[ 174  ] 


376 


NOON  HALT  ON  THE  LITTLE  SANDY  RIVER. 

>.  * j 

Determination  of  latitude , August  14,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of 

the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

m 

sm?s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

123 

39 

10 

1 

06 

46 

123 

41 

00 

07 

57 

123 

42 

05 

09 

06 

123 

44 

30 

10 

21 

123 

46 

00 

11 

41 

123 

46 

50 

12 

55 

123 

46 

45 

13 

33 

123 

48 

10 

14 

25 

123 

47 

55 

15 

23 

123 

48 

00 

J6 

10 

123 

47 

25 

17 

08 

123 

47 

15 

18 

02 

123 

45 

30 

20 

03 

123 

45 

10 

21 

00 

123 

44 

25 

21 

57 

123 

43 

35 

22 

42 

Index  error  = -f*  1 min-  40  sec, 

; 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

62  09  52 

1 16  36 

42  15  11 

377 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude,  August  15,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


- . 

FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

i Double 

altitudes  of  j 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Ajrcturus. 

Arcturus. 

si 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

1 Deg. 

min. 

! 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

13 

40 

10 

19 

24 

! 55 

40 

00 

10 

26 

13.5 

57 

35 

10 

21 

09 

I 55 

16 

00 

27 

18.0 

57 

13 

10 

22 

07 

| 54 

50 

30 

28 

26.4 

56 

46 

30 

23 

16 

54 

29 

50 

29 

25.0 

56 

13 

10 

1 

24 

46 

| 54 

09 

50 

30 

18.3 

Index  error  = — 28  sec. 


RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

r*  • . 

h.  min.  sec. 
9 12  18 

h.  mm.  sec. 
1 12  56.8 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
110  05  05 

Determination  of  latitude , August  15,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes 

of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min . 

, sec. 

83 

44 

40 

10  36 

29 

83 

46 

40 

38 

17 

83 

47 

10 

' 

39 

51 

83 

49 

00 

42 

23 

83 

50 

oo- 

43 

36 

83 

51 

45 

44 

49 

83 

52 

10 

46 

27 

83 

53 

30 

47 

54 

83 

55 

20 

49 

42 

83 

55 

45 

50 

36 

Index  error  = — 28  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  53  59 

9 31  03 

41  53  54 

— 

378 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude,  August  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

• 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

m 

Time  of  chronome- 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

ter. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

18 

28 

20 

7 

18 

00.4 

20 

05 

20 

7 

22 

32.3 

18 

54 

40 

19 

17.0 

20 

18 

30 

23 

09.4 

19 

09 

10 

20 

00.0 

20 

29 

20 

23 

37.7 

19 

32 

00 

21 

02.5 

20 

48 

10 

24 

30.4 

19 

48 

50 

21 

49.2 

21 

00 

50 

25 

05.4 

Index  error  = 1 min.  44  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

*•  ■ 

6 09  02 

1 12^  51.8 

Determination  of  longitude,  August,  16, 1843 — distances  from  the  second 
limb  of  the  moon  to  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS  WITH  THE  CIRCLE. 


Apparent  distance. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

53  32  35 

503  09  40 

449  40  00 

503  18  40 


Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

16 

10 

20 

03 

30 

19 

37 

19 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

108  22  29 

2 29  22 

379 


[ 174  ] 


.NOON  HALT  ON  GREEN  RIVER,  NEAR  THE  OLD  TRADING  HOUSE,  WHERE 
THE  ROAD  TO  THE  COLUMBIA  LEAVES  THE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Aug.  16,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun 

’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

123 

18 

20 

1 06 

41 

123 

20 

34 

08 

30 

123 

24 

00 

10 

23 

123 

26 

00 

12 

02 

123 

26 

50 

13 

51 

123 

27 

45 

14 

56 

123 

27 

35 

17 

19 

123 

26 

15 

19 

35 

123 

24 

45 

21 

30 

123 

23 

25 

22 

48 

123 

21 

20 

24 

05 

Index  error  =4-1  min.  42  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

62  00  28 

1 

12 

37 

41 

46  54 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BLACK’S  FORK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  17,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

86  15  40 

5 30  45  a.  m. 

86  14  30 

36  08 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

43  06  15 

4 19  52 

41 

37 

31 

Determination  of  longitude,  August  17,  1843 — Emersion  of  Jupiter’s 

first  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec.  • 

5 03  11  a.  m. 

3 50  35 

[ 174  ] 


380 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BLACK’S  FORK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude , August  17,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

observations. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Leg. 

min. 

sec. 

19 

58 

55 

20 

22 

40 

20 

34 

35 

20 

48 

05 

21 

00 

10 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h . min.  sec. 
7 23  03.7 

24  09.0 

24  42.0 

25  17.4 

25  52  2 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

21 

20 

50 

21 

33 

35 

21 

45 

50 

22 

02 

25 

22 

15 

20 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h.  min.  sec. 

7 26  46.7 

27  22.0 

27  56.2 

28  41.6 

29  15.5 


Index  error  ==  — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

6 13  46 

1 

12  33.2 

110  10  28 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  BLACK’S  FORK  OF  GREEN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  August  17,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

1 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

1 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronom  eter. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

44  45 

25 

6 

03 

08.5 

43 

43 

40  ' 

I 6 

05 

53.4 

44  30 

40 

03 

46.7 

43 

31 

55 

06 

26.6 

44  18 

50 

04 

20.6 

43 

21 

00 

06 

55.0 

44  06 

10 

04 

54.0 

43 

12 

40 

07 

17.2 

43  55 

00 

1 

05 

22.5 

43 

01 

00 

1 

07 

49.4 

Index  error  = -+•  2 min.  07  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 

52  20 

1.  13  15.7 

381  [ 174  ] 

second  Encampment  on  black’s  fork  of  green  river. 


Determination  of  longitude , August  17,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

« 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

| Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

4>9 

43 

30 

10 

07 

41.0 

55 

04 

50 

10 

20 

07.0 

* 59 

00 

00 

09 

38.0 

54 

40 

40 

21 

07.0 

58 

34 

15 

10 

44.5 

| 54 

27 

40 

21 

47.6 

58 

08 

15 

11 

56.0 

54 

02 

50 

22 

49.4 

57 

41 

10 

13 

C8.0 

! 53 

1 

42 

20 

23 

43.2 

Index  error  ==  — 31  sec. 


RESULT  OF.  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min . sec. 

9 03 

05 

1 13  11.3 

110 

25  06 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  17,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  pf  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

55 

10 

10 

27 

53 

82 

57 

10 

28 

13 

82 

58 

30 

29 

28 

82 

59 

15 

31 

04 

82 

59 

50 

* 

32 

21 

83 

00 

10 

33 

58 

83 

01 

00 

35 

25 

83 

03 

00 

37 

11 

83 

04 

00 

38 

09 

83 

04 

15 

39 

03 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec, 

41  28  46 

9 20  08 

41  29  53 

382 


[ 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  BLACK’S  FORK  OF  GRflEN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  August  IS,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Aquilse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilse.- 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

51 

10 

2 

42 

38  a.  m. 

74 

29 

10 

44 

23 

74 

57 

30 

45 

42 

75 

22 

40 

46 

51 

75 

54 

30 

48 

18 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

* > 

Determination  of  latitude , August  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

mm. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

. 27 

10 

2 

51 

02  a.  m. 

75 

28 

15 

52 

50 

75 

29 

25 

54 

59 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

383 


[ 1*4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM  TRIBUTARY  TO  HAM’S  FORK. 
Determination  of  longitude,  August  IS,  1843 — altitudes  of  Jupiter, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Jupiter. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

60  15  10 

11  41  24.0 

60  29  30 

43  02.4 

60  41  40 

44  29.0 

60  53  00 

45  42  5 

61  02  10 

46  47.0 

Index  error  = — 32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- 

Determination  of  longitude, August  18, 1S43 — altitudes  of  a.  Andromedse » 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Andromedse. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

90 

19 

30 

11 

53 

52.0 

91 

00 

20 

55 

26.0 

91 

32 

00 

56 

56.4 

91 

55 

20 

57 

55.0 

92 

21 

00 

59 

05.0 

Index  error  = — 32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


j 

Mean  time.  ^ 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 

h. 

min.  sec , 

Deg.  min. 

see. 

10  42  49 

1 

13  49.4 

110  45 

58 

3S4 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM  TRIBUTARY  TO  HAM’S  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , » August  18,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

04 

40 

12 

02 

14 

84 

06 

50 

04 

10 

84 

08 

10 

06 

07 

84 

11 

00 

08 

25 

84 

10 

50 

09 

51 

84 

13 

40 

14 

12 

84 

15 

30 

16 

18 

84 

16 

40 

19 

05 

84 

20 

10 

22 

49 

84 

21 

20 

24 

51 

Index  error  = — 32  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

D°g.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  05  05 

10  58  59 

41  26  08 

Determination  of  longitude,  August  19,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h . min.  sec. 

21  33  40 

7 30  29.6 

21  47  50 

31  04.6 

21  59  20 

31  37.3 

22  16  20 

32  22.3 

22  32  00 

33  06.5 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

# Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h . min.  sec. 

6 17  57 

1 13  46.9 

385 


[ 174  J 


NOON  HALT  ON  THE  MUDDY  RIVER  OF  HAM’S  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Aug.  19,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  thesuru 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Dee;. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

121 

57 

10 

I 12 

01 

121 

57 

30 

12 

57 

121 

57 

50 

13 

38 

121 

•58 

15 

14 

53 

121 

58 

00 

15 

44 

121 

58 

05 

16 

36 

121 

57 

50 

18 

43 

121 

56 

10 

21 

34 

121 

54 

45 

22 

44 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  20  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  alt.tude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit.  | 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

61  . 15  19 

1 17  00 

41  34  25 

NOON  HALT  ON  MUDDY  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Aug.  22, 1S43 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


[ Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer 

Deg. 

min. 

src. 

ft.  min. 

sec. 

12! 

06 

10 

1 11 

55 

121 

06 

55 

13 

08 

121 

'07 

30 

13 

58 

121 

08 

00 

14 

53 

121 

08 

10 

15 

48 

121 

08 

30 

16 

52 

121 

03 

40 

17 

33 

121 

08 

30 

18 

34 

* 121 

07 

40 

19 

44 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg,  min.  sec. 
00  50  08 

ft.  min.  sec . 
1 17  02 

Deg.  m'n.  sec. 
41  39  45 

25 


[ 174  ] 


388 


NOON  HALT  ON  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , Jiug.  2 1 , 1S43 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes 

of  the  sun 

's  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

ter.. 

k . 

min. 

sec. 

119 

57 

30 

1 

11 

42 

119 

58 

10 

13 

00 

1 19 

59 

45 

14 

01 

120 

00 

45 

16 

23 

120 

00 

35 

17 

12 

120 

00 

20 

17 

56 

119 

59 

30 

20 

34 

119 

58 

50 

21 

36 

119 

57 

30 

22 

41 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


T rue  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

De.”.  min.  src. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

60  16  15 

1 17  02 

41  53  55 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , Ji ug.  21,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

I 


Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

mm. 

sec. 

58 

53 

10 

9 

55 

05  5 

57 

33 

00 

57 

50.0 

57 

22 

30 

59 

11  0 

56 

31 

20 

10 

01 

22.0 

55 

44 

20 

03 

34.0 

Deg 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

54 

43 

15 

10 

G6 

18.5 

54 

07 

10 

07 

56.0 

53 

28 

20 

09 

41.0 

52 

44 

20 

11 

36  0 

51 

53 

50 

13 

54.0 

j 


Index  error  = -f-  30  see. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
8 55  52 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 14  01.6 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
Ill  10  53 

[ »74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude , August  21,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  mil. 

sec. 

81 

08 

20 

10  10 

25 

84 

]0 

30 

21 

22 

84 

10 

20 

22 

23 

84 

12 

50 

23 

21 

81 

13 

10 

25 

07 

84 

14 

00 

26 

13 

84 

16 

10 

27 

46 

84 

17 

00 

28 

51 

81 

17 

20 

29 

51 

84 

18 

20 

31 

47 

Index  error  = 
RESULT  OF  C 

= — 30  sec 
CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  s'c. 

h.  min.  sec 

Dng  min.  sec. 

CO 

<o 

o 

9 11  42 

4;  03  47 

Determination  of  latitude , August  21,  1541 — meridian  alt  itudes  of  a 

Aquilsc. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilae. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

• Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

in  n. 

8 C. 

v v 1 12 

51 

10 

10 

53 

18 

112 

53 

40 

55 

51 

112 

53 

10 

57 

51 

112 

54 

00 

5 9 

05 

112 

51 

55 

1 l 

CO  ' 

47 

112 

51 

00 

0.4 

55 

112 

47 

20 

07 

21 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OE  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  m’n.  sec. 

56  26  06 

10  . 57  4f 

388 


[ 174  ] 


NOON  HALT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  ABOVE  THOMAS'S  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , August  22,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the 


sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  win.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

118  46  25 

1 16  03 

118  47  30 

17  02 

118  47  10 

17  38 

118  46  20 

18  31 

118  46  25 

19  11 

118  46  05 

19  57 

118  45  25 

20  51 

118  '14  40 

21  53 

118  43  30 

22  31 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  25  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit.  . 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg. 

m'n.  sec. 

59  39  38 

1 16  19 

42 

10  27 

NOON  HALT  Oft  TULLICK’S  FORK  OF  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  24,  1S43 — meridian  altitudes  of  the 

sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

14  6 

48 

35 

1 14 

52 

116 

48 

40 

16 

22 

116 

48 

20 

18 

18 

116 

47 

30 

19 

44 

116 

46 

30 

20 

49 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min.  22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

1 

Latitude. 

i 

Deg.  min.  s’c. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

58  40  17 

• 1.1  16  13 

42  29  05 

389 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , August  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Dee;,  min.  sec. 

! h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

: h.  min.  sec. 

52  57  50 

9 59  48 

51  03  40 

10  04  56.5 

25  11  40 

10  01  51 

50  40  00 

06  00.0 

51  35  00 

03  30 

. 

50  19  10 

06  58.0 

Index  error  ==  — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

h . min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 49 

29 

1 14  21.9 

Ill  42  05 

Detei'mination  of  latitude , August  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


I 

Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 

I 


Deg. 

. min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

see. 

85 

17 

20 

10 

10 

29 

85 

18 

50 

11 

45 

85 

18 

40 

12 

54 

85 

20 

00 

\ 

13 

45 

85 

19 

20 

14 

35 

85 

23 

10 

16 

51 

85 

22 

20 

18 

19 

85 

24 

30 

20 

07 

85 

25 

20 

20 

58 

85 

26 

00 

S2 

05 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  39  28 

9 01  50 

42  36  56 

[ 174  ] 


390 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BEER  SPRINGS. 

Determinal  ion  of  latitude , August  25,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of 

the  sun. 

observations. 


• 

Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

115 

43 

20 

1 

01 

42 

115 

43 

15 

11 

26 

115 

44 

10 

12 

27 

115 

44 

30 

13 

08 

115 

44 

50 

13 

47 

115 

45 

20 

14 

43 

- - 

115 

46 

00 

15 

22 

115 

45 

55 

16 

13 

115 

45 

20 

16 

55 

115 

45 

05 

17 

35 

115 

45 

00 

18 

14 

115 

44 

30 

19 

24 

115 

44 

15 

20 

09 

115 

43 

25 

21 

06 

Index  error  — -f-  1 min.  20  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

68  08  46 

1 16  20 

42  39  57 

391 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BEER  SPRINGS. 

Determination  of  longitude , Jin  gust  25,  1SI3 — u/t  it  tides  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIFS. 

SECOXD 

SERIWS. 

[Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

34 

25 

35 

6 

20 

34.5 

33 

02 

20 

6 

24 

23.0 

33 

59 

40 

21 

44.6 

32 

50 

25 

24 

53.6 

33 

43 

00 

22 

31  0 

32 

38 

30 

25 

26  5 

33 

32 

40 

22 

58.0 

32 

25 

20 

26 

02  2 

33 

17 

50 

23 

38.5 

32 

12 

40 

26 

36.3 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min,  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  8fC. 

Deg.  min.  src. 

5 

09  44 

1 

14  09.1 

Ill  46  00 

NOON  HALT  AT  THE  ENTRANCE  OF  THE  BEAUTIFUL  PASS  WITH  THE 

REMARKABLE  ROCK. 

Determination  of  latitude , diug.  29,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

114  02  50 

1 18  23 

114  02  20 

19  26 

| 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min.  20  sec. 

• RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

67  17  16 

1 18  54 

43  07  18 

3S2 


[ 1^4  ] 

NOON  HALT  ON  A BRANCH  OF  ROSEAUX,  OR  REED  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  30,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of 

the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


r — 

Double  altitudes 

of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

113 

05 

35 

1 12 

02 

113 

05 

30 

12 

41 

113 

05 

20 

13 

17 

113 

05 

20 

13 

53 

Index  error  — -}-  1 min.  22  sec. 

r;  \ 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

56  48  46 

1 11  55 

42  14  22 

NOON  HALT  AT  A SWAMPY  PLACE,  A LITTLE  DISTANCE  FROM  ROSEAUX 

CREEK. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  31,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the 

sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

112 

52 

00 

1 

12 

10 

112 

51 

15 

13 

07 

112 

51 

20 

14 

12 

112 

50 

50 

15 

21 

112 

50 

10 

16 

21 

112 

49 

35 

17 

29 

112 

48 

10 

18 

34 

112 

46 

50 

19 

54 

Index  error  = -4-  1 min.  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

56  J2  03 

1 11  35 

41  59  31 

- 

393 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  ROSEALX. 

Determination  of  longitude , Sept.  1,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


I 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

i 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec . 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

41 

39 

35 

5 

48 

08.5 

1 

41 

25 

15 

48 

45.4 

40  31 

10 

5 

51 

11.8 

41 

11 

50 

49 

23.0 

39  28 

30 

54 

01.6 

41 

00 

50 

49 

52.7 

40 

48 

50 

50 

24.5 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
4 39  02 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 11  55.1 

I 


Determination  of  latitude,  Sept.  2,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

observation. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

86  17  50 

3 28  03  a.  m. 

Index  error  = — 28  sec . 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

43  07  39 

2 16  21 

41  36  10 

[ 174  ] 


394 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  NEAR  ITS  MOUTH. 

Determination  of  latitude , Sept.  2 , 1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Dg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

25 

40 

10 

01 

45 

83 

26 

10 

02 

53 

83 

27 

50 

03 

58 

83 

28 

20 

05 

13 

83 

29 

20 

06 

19 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41 

42 

23 

8 52  24 

41  30  27 

Determination  of  longitude , Sept.  2,  1813 — altitudes  of  a Andromeda u 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

j Double  altitudes  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Andromedffl. 

Andromedse. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  37  40 

10  24  04.0 

81  08  20 

10  28  06.0 

80  19  10 

25  53.5 

81  31  10 

29  06.5 

80  43  40 

27  03.0 

81  48  20 

29  52.5 

Index  error  ==  + 1 rain.  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 15  39 

1 11  39.4 

• 

395 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  NEAR  ITS  MOUTH. 
Determination  of  latitude,  Sept.  2, 1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  ajJQuihe. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilsc. 

I 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Des;. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

src. 

1 13 

59 

50 

10 

14 

15 

113 

56 

20 

16 

12 

113 

55 

10 

17 

32 

113 

53 

20 

19 

00 

113 

50 

40 

20 

18 

Index  error  = — 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

57  00  38 

k.  min.  sec. 
10  08  14 

Determination  of  longitude,  September  2,  1S43- 

third  satellite. 

—emersion  of  Jupiter’s 

Observed  time.  , 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

10  51  56 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 43  14 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  fourth  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

11  03  29 

1 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 51  47 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  second  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

! 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec.  k.  min.  sec. 

12  00  17  10  48  36.5 


C 174  3 


396 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  NEAR  ITS  MOUTH. 
Determination  of  longitude,  September  3,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOXB  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb . 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

46 

40 

35 

8 

50 

05.0 

47 

54 

00 

8 

53 

23.5 

46 

55 

50 

50 

46.7 

48 

03 

50 

53 

62.2 

47 

09 

10 

51 

22.0 

48 

15 

25 

54 

22.3 

47 

27 

15 

52 

13.5 

48 

24 

35 

54 

48.0 

47 

42 

40 

52 

54.6 

48 

37 

55 

55 

25.3 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

1 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

* 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 41  27 

1 11  28.6 

112  15  46 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Sept . 3,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb.  J Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Ill 

40 

35 

1 

07 

46 

111 

41 

10 

09 

00 

111 

41 

35 

10 

01 

111 

41 

35 

10 

57 

111 

40 

40 

12 

17 

111 

40 

40 

• 

13 

03 

111 

40 

25 

13 

50 

111 

39 

30 

14 

51 

Index  error  = -f-  l min.  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

56  06  37 

1 10  39 

41  30  17 

397 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  3,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  a 

dt  guilds. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a A quilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

J Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

114  00  40 

10  06  00 

114  00  *20 

07  15 

113  59  20 

08  50 

113  57  15 

'10  57 

^ 113  55  10 

12  54 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min.  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

1 

] Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

D“g.  min.  sec. 

| 

h.  min.  sec. 

57  00  48 

10  01  03 

Determinat  ion  of  latitude , September  3, 1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

T.nr.e  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  see. 

h.  min.  sec. 

83  39  dO 

10  15  58 

83  41  15 

17  29 

83  42  10 

18  49 

83  43  00 

20  00 

83  41  40 

21  26 

Index  error  = 4-  I min.  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

| Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

//.  min.  sec . 

. Deg.  min.  sec. 

4l  50 

42 

9 07  20 

41  30  22 

C 174  ] 


3.9S 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  BEAR  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  September  3,  1843 — altitudes  of  Jlrcturus . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arc:  urns. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Bzg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. ' 

38 

21 

50 

9 

56 

15.0 

37 

48 

2:) 

57 

47.0 

37 

24 

40 

. 58 

50.  0 

36 

56 

20 

io_ 

00 

05.5 

36 

34 

50 

: 

01 

05.0 

36 

00 

50 

02 

39.0 

I 


Index  error  = 1 min.  25  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

li.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 48  04 

1 11  23.2 

112  21  20 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

1 

h.  min.  src. 

h.  min.  see. 

r 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 37  40 

9 26  16 

1 1 2 17  40 

Mean  longitude  112°  19'  30". 

\ 


309 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  WEBER’S  FORK. 

Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  7,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  snru 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Dg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Dei?. 

min. 

S'T. 

h. 

m>n. 

sec. 

39 

2,7  20 

8 

3 1 

25.0 

40 

30 

10 

8 

31 

13.4 

39 

40  00 

31 

59.2 

40 

40 

20 

34 

43.0 

39 

53  45 

32 

34.5 

* 40 

51 

40 

35 

12.4 

40 

09  00 

33 

16.0 

41 

03 

25 

35 

41.3 

40 

19  00 

33 

44.2 

41 

13 

50 

36 

11.5 

Index  error  ^ + I min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION, 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  m'n.  fee- 

Dei;,  min.  ser. 

7 25  22 

1 08  32.4 

112  06  43 

Determination  of  latitude,  Sept . 7,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes 

of  the 

i 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

see. 

h.  m’n. 

sec . 

109 

09 

10 

1 02 

54 

109 

09 

35 

03 

52 

109 

09 

30 

05 

53 

109 

09 

55 

06 

56 

109 

09 

30 

08 

03 

309 

09 

25 

08 

41 

109 

08 

55 

09 

28 

109 

08 

20 

JO 

1 l 

. 109 

07 

50 

1 1 

02 

109 

07 

00 

11 

56 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  32  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

V" 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

54  51  01 

h.  min.  sec. 
1 06  14 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
41  15  50 

[ 174  ] 


400 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  WEBER’S  FORK. 

Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  7,  184  3 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

l 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deer. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

see. 

41 

36 

b5 

5 

34 

58.5 

40 

37 

50 

5 37 

37.7 

41 

18 

30 

35 

46.0. 

40 

27 

45 

38 

01.4 

41 

07 

10 

36 

16.7* 

40 

19 

10 

38 

28.2 

40 

56 

40 

36 

46.5 

40 

08 

35 

33 

56.8 

40 

46 

30 

37 

13.6 

40 

1 . 

00 

50 

39 

17.5 

Index  error  = l*min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

li.  m>n.  sec. 

4 29  06 

1.  08  14.4 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  WEBERS  FORK,  VERY  NEAR  THE  MOUTH. 
Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  8,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


. . . FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES, 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometef. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun's  lower  limb 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

see. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

44 

07 

50 

5 • 26 

14.0 

43 

13 

50 

5 

28 

41.5 

43 

54 

55 

26 

49.5 

43 

02 

55 

29 

10.0 

. 43 

42 

50 

27 

21.7 

42 

52 

45 

29 

3#8  0 

43 

33 

00 

27 

49.0 

42 

43 

30 

30 

02.8 

43 

23 

55 

23 

13.3 

42 

29 

10 

30 

4. '.5 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h . min.  src. 

h.  min.  see. 

Deg.  min.  src. 

4 20  27 

1 08  00.9 

1 IS  11  30 

401 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  WEBER’S  FORK,  VERY  NEAR  THE  MOUTH. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  S,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris, 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


JJeg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

12 

10 

10 

04 

02 

83 

14 

20 

06 

37 

83 

15 

30 

03 

24 

83 

17 

00 

10 

41 

83 

18 

20 

12 

42 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = -p  1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


! 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . , 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  37  28 

9 00  35 

% 

41  11  26 

ON  THE  ISLAND  IN  THE  GREAT  SALT  LAKE. 

Determination  oj  latitude , Sept.  9,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

107  46  10 

0 59  23 

107  47  35  ‘ 

1 00  18 

107  48  20 

01  48 

107  49  10 

02  49 

107  * 49  15 

03  29 

107  49  20 

04  21 

107  49  30 

05  08 

107  49  10 

06  00 

107  49  00 

06  56 

107  48  45 

07  51 

107  48  45 

08  43 

107  47  30 

09  28 

107  47  00 

10  42 

107  45  40 

11  44 

Index  error  = 1 min.  40  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

^Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

54  10  51 

1 05  23 

41  10  42 

[ 174  ] 


102 


ON  THE  ISLAND  IN  THE  GREAT  SALT  LAKE. 
Determination  of  longitude , September  9,  1843 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer.  | 

Double  alti  tudes  of 

i Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus- 

I 

| 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec.  j 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

58 

50 

S 33 

53.0 

54  53  50  | 

8 

44 

47.0 

58 

05 

10 

36 

18.5  1 

54  22  50  j 

46 

04.6 

57 

29 

40 

37 

50.5  \ 

53  59  00 

47 

09.2 

56 

53 

40 

39 

29.6  ! 

53  28  00  1 

48 

33.0 

56 

20 

20 

40 

54.0 

1 

52  49  50 

1 

50 

13.0 

Index  error  «=  -f-  i min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time, 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

It.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg,  min.  sec. 

7 34  29 

1 08  02.6 

112  21  05 

NOON  HALT  IN  THE  MUD. 

Determination  of  latitude , Sept.  10,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


I ■ 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

see. 

106 

56 

50 

1 01 

43 

106 

57 

20 

02 

55 

106 

57 

15 

04 

14 

106 

56 

50 

05 

24 

106 

56 

50 

06 

31 

106 

55 

55 

07 

40 

106 

54 

10 

10 

04 

106 

53 

20 

10 

42 

Index  error  £=  1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

! Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sees. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

53  44  42 

• 1 

1 04  16 

41 

14  17 

403 


[ *74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  OF  SEPTEMBER  7. 

Determination  of  time,  September  11,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the  | 

1"  . 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

! 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

i 

sec . i 

h. 

min. 

sec.  . 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

39 

19 

10 

5 

32 

05.6 

38 

17 

50 

5 

34 

48.4 

39 

05 

20  ; 

32 

41.5 

38 

03 

50 

35 

26.7 

38 

53 

20  1 

33 

12.7 

37 

53 

20 

35 

55.0 

38 

40 

50 

33 

45.5 

37 

43 

10 

36 

22.5 

38 

29 

10  , 

34 

17.7 

37 

29 

20 

37 

02  3 

Index  error  = -p  1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 28  35 

1 . 05  59.1 

Determination  of  time,  September  12,  IS43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  i 

SERIES. 

| 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

1 

i Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

48 

50 

40 

8 

59 

39.5 

49 

42 

00 

9 

01 

59.4 

49 

03 

45 

9 

00 

14.0 

49 

50 

00 

02 

T 22.0 

49 

14 

20 

00 

43.2 

49 

57 

50 

02 

44.6 

49 

23 

00 

01 

06.4 

50 

08 

00 

| 

03 

12.4 

49 

32 

40 

01 

34.5 

50 

17 

35 

i * 

03 

40.3 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

* k. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

7 

56  02 

1 05  41.7 

The  daily  losing  rate  of  the  chronometer,  obtained  from  the  observations  at  this  place,  is  33, 72 

seconds. 


404 


[ 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  SOUTH  OF  THE  GAP— A MAIN  STATION. 


Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  13,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Jiquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

88  10  15 

11  41  40 

87  52  50 

42  35 

87  32  30 

43  42 

87  07  40 

45  07 

86  48  00 

46  08 

Index  error  — -f-  1 rain.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

Immersion  of  t Jlrietis  at  the  moon’s  bright  limb . 


Observed  time. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

12 

30  43 

7 31  16.5 

Emersion  of  t'  Arietis. 


Observed  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

12  17  39 

7 28  20.8 

To  this  station,  as  determined  by  the  emersion  of  t Arietis,  are  referred,  by  chronometric  differ- 
ences,'the  longitudes  from  St.  Vrain’s  fort  to  the  Dalles  of  the  Columbia. 


i 


405 


[ 174  } 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BEAR  RIVER,  SOUTH  OF  THE  GAP— A MAIN  STATION. 
Determination  of  longitude , September  13,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse . 


OBSERV 

ATIONS. 

Double  altitudes  of  a Lyra;. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

80  49  00 

12  31  49.5 

80  06  20 

33  51.5 

79  12.  00 

36  27.0 

Index  error  = -f-  l min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

Determination  of  longitude , September  14,  1843 — altit  udes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

42 

12 

00 

5 

16 

18.5 

40 

24 

15 

5 

21 

21.3 

4i 

48 

30 

17 

24.7 

40 

10 

20  ! 

21 

59.7 

41 

18 

05 

18 

50.3 

39 

59 

15  ! 

22 

29.2 

41 

04 

00 

19 

28.0 

39 

48 

10 

23 

00.4 

40 

48 

25 

20 

12.4 

39 

37  ‘ 

30 

23 

30.4 

Index  error  = 4-  1 min.  39  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

t 1 7.4  3 406 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  ROSEAUX,  OR  REED  RIVER. 

Deter  initiation  of  longitude,  September  15, 1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


first 

SERIES. 

*• 

| 

SECOND 

SEKIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

| Time  of  chronometer. 

! 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer,. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

47 

31 

25 

4 

58 

54.5 

46 

05 

10 

5 

02 

56.0 

47 

15 

00 

j 

59 

39.2 

45 

50 

30 

03 

38.3 

47 

02 

30 

5 

00 

14.0 

45 

39 

20 

04 

09.8 

46 

48 

00 

00 

55.0 

45 

18 

10 

05 

10.0 

46 

25 

10 

1 

01 

59.5 

45 

01 

50 

1 

05 

56.0 

Index  error  = -{-  1 rain.  38  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

3 58  00 

; 

1 04  21.8 

1 

112  15  04 

Determination  of  latitude,  Sept.  1 5, 1843 — meridian  altitude  of  a-Jiquilse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

112 

22 

30 

9 

01 

20 

112 

24 

10 

03 

21 

112 

26 

40 

05 

01 

112 

28 

40 

08 

45 

112 

27 

40 

10 

01 

112 

28 

30 

11 

07 

112 

27 

20 

13 

26 

112 

26 

10 

1 

14 

52 

112 

24 

'40 

16 

08 

112 

22 

30 

17 

31 

Index  error  = -{-  1 min.  34  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

56  15  20 

9 08  51 

42  13  26 

407 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  ROSEAUX,  OR  REED  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  15,  1343 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

85  03  50 

9 20  41 

85  05  . 20 

22  09 

85  06  30 

23  17 

85  07  00 

24  48 

85  09  00 

26  12 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  34  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42 

32 

51 

8 19  10 

42  12  57 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  PANNACK  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude , September  17,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec.  \ 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

47 

20 

40 

4 54 

22.0 

46 

23 

00  ! 

4 

57 

07.4 

47 

07 

50 

54 

58.3 

46 

12 

20  i 

57 

39.4 

46 

56 

20 

55 

32.5 

45 

59 

10 

58 

15.6 

46 

46 

50 

55 

58.2 

45 

48 

00 

58 

48.0 

46 

38 

15 

56 

22.0  # 

1 

Index  error  = -f-  I min.  35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

3 52  28 

1 04  14.1 

112  29  52 

C 174  ] 


408 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  PANNACK  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , Sept.  17,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

85 

37 

30 

8 

34 

55 

85 

38 

20 

36 

01 

85 

38 

40 

. 37 

28 

85 

39 

30 

38 

43 

85 

41 

10 

39 

53 

85 

41 

00 

41 

29 

85 

43 

10. 

42 

57 

85 

44 

15 

43 

55 

85 

45 

20 

44 

54 

85 

46 

00 

46 

31 

Index  error  =3+1  min.  36  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  50  30 

7 36  37 

42  44  25 

Determination  of  latitude.  Sept.  17,1843 — meridian  altitudes  of a Aquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Ill  12  50 

8 49  41 

111  17  50 

51  41 

111  21  20 

54  18 

111  22  10 

55  40 

111  23  50 

57  10 

111  25  20 

9 00  08 

111  26  00 

02  33 

111  25  15 

04  06 

111  25  10 

05,  34 

111  24  00 

07  13 

111  21  55 

08  59 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  36  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

55  42  02 

9 01  41 

42  44  45 

409 


r 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  PANNACK  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  September  IS,  1813 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse* 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Lyrae.  • 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

— . 

55 

51 

30 

1 

31 

44.0  a.  m- 

55 

23 

20 

33 

05.2 

54 

53 

20 

34 

40.0 

54 

26 

30 

36 

00.4 

53 

52 

10 

37 

54.0 

53 

32 

50 

39 

22.0 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  39  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

1 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
0 31  15 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 04  12.8 

1 ...  , " ~ 

Emersion  of  Jupiter's  first  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

1 20  21 

0 16  08 

i 

112  32  21 

[ 174  ] 


410 


AT  FORT  HALL. 

Determination  of  longitude , September  21,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

hi 

min. 

sec. 

56 

29 

00 

9 

34  22.0 

57 

16 

00 

9 

36 

47.2 

56 

40 

00 

34  55.5 

57 

24 

00 

37 

11.0 

56 

51 

50 

35  31.4 

57 

31 

10 

37 

34.3 

57 

01 

35 

36  01.2 

57 

39 

10 

37 

59.4 

57 

07 

15 

36  21.4 

57 

47 

10 

38 

24.3 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 34  20 

1 02  11.5 

112  29  54 

411 


[ 174  ] 


AT  FORT  HALL. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  21,  1S43 — meridian  attitudes  of 

the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec  A 

94 

45 

00 

0 

43 

26 

•94 

45 

55 

44 

04 

94 

47 

20 

44 

52 

94 

47 

50 

45 

37 

94 

48 

20 

46 

08 

94 

49 

30 

46 

51 

94 

50 

00 

47 

25 

94 

51 

00 

48 

02 

94 

51 

20 

48 

40 

94 

52 

00 

49 

33 

94 

53 

40 

51 

26 

94 

53 

30 

51 

58 

94 

53 

40 

52* 

31 

94 

54 

20 

53 

12 

94 

54 

00 

53 

50 

94 

54 

10 

54 

45 

94 

53 

55 

55 

21 

94 

53 

55 

56 

12 

94 

54 

00 

56 

43 

94 

53 

40 

57 

21 

94 

53 

00 

58 

52 

94 

52 

25 

59 

31 

94 

51 

45 

1 

00 

29 

94 

51 

20 

01 

09 

94 

50 

50 

01 

58 

94 

49 

40 

02 

45 

94 

48 

50 

03 

35 

94 

A. 

47 

50 

04 

13 

Index  error  = 1 min  37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

47  43  08 

0 55  11 

43  01  30 

412 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  ABOVE  THE  AMERICAN  FALLS. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  24,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of 

the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

92 

57 

05 

0 45 

34.0 

92 

57 

50 

46 

26  • 

92 

58 

25 

47 

19 

92 

59 

15 

48 

24 

93 

00 

10 

49 

28 

93 

00 

10 

50 

21 

93 

00 

15 

51 

12 

93 

00 

50 

52 

14 

93 

00 

35 

53 

04 

93 

00 

30 

53 

58 

92 

59 

40 

55 

04 

93 

00 

05 

55 

51 

92 

'69 

40 

56 

36 

92 

59 

20 

57 

21 

92 

58 

30 

58 

09 

92 

57 

50 

59 

02 

Index  error  — 1 rain.  47  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

46 

46 

22 

0 

53 

00 

42  48  02 

413 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  ABOVE  THE  AMERICAN  FALLS. 

Determination  of  longitude , September  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERf  ATIONS. 


FIItST  SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

j Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

35 

07 

50 

5 

12 

22.8 

33 

46 

50 

5 16 

13.4 

34 

52 

00 

13 

06.4 

33 

27 

20 

17 

08.0 

34 

39 

25 

13 

44.5 

33 

10 

40 

17 

56.5 

34 

25 

00 

14 

24.0 

33 

00 

to 

18 

26.0 

34 

00 

25 

15 

36.0 

32 

47 

00 

19 

04.2 

Index  error  = + 1 rain.  47  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Dg. 

min.  sec. 

4 14  58 

1 

00  50.7 

112 

40  13 

Determination  of  latitude , September  24,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of 

a Aquilse.  “ * 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronotneter. 

Deg.  min. 

» 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

Ill 

18 

10 

8 

25 

21 

111 

19 

20 

26 

50 

111 

20 

25 

28 

28 

111 

20 

50 

30 

14 

111 

20 

20 

32 

03 

111 

20 

'20 

34 

05 

111 

18 

20 

35 

24 

111 

17 

50 

36 

37 

111 

16 

00 

38 

43 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

55  40  41 

8 30  08 

42  47  05 

414 


r 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  ABOVE  THE  AMERICAN  FALLS. 
Determination  of  latitude , September  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

86  16  00 

8 46  21 

86  17  20 

48  22 

86  18  20 

49  35 

86  19  40 

51  49 

. 86  2L  40 

54  1 1 

Index  error  = 4-1  min.  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

43  09  08  • 

7 49  19 

42  47  05 

NOON  HALT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Sept.  28,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun » 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

89 

42 

50 

*0 

55 

08 

89 

43 

15 

55 

56 

89 

43 

00 

56 

40 

89 

42 

40 

57 

15 

89 

42 

10 

57 

56 

' 89 

41 

50 

58 

32 

89 

41 

10 

59 

17 

89 

40 

00 

1 

00 

12 

89 

37 

45 

02 

00 

89 

35 

20 

03 

41 



Index  error  = 4-1  min.  45  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min.  see. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45 

07  24 

0 

54  26 

42  29  56 

415  [ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  ROCK  CREEK  OF  SNAKE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , September  29,  1843— altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  see. 

86  05  40 

9 09  53 

86  07  10 

11  27 

86  08  00 

12  25  ' 

86  08  50 

13  22 

86  “ 10  40 

14  42 

86  10  40 

15  44 

86  11  25 

16  50 

86  13  50 

18  43 

86  13  50 

19  52 

86  15  10 

21  31 

Index  error  = 4-  I min.  45  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude, 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

43  05  06 

8 11  40 

42  26  21 

Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  29,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Andromedse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


I 


Double  altitudes  of  a 

Andromedae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

100 

16 

10 

9 

25 

33 

100 

45 

40 

26 

53 

101 

17 

50 

28 

21 

Index  error  1 min.  45  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

* 

8 23  08 

1 03  47.0 

■ 


416 


[ 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  OPPOSITE  TO  THE  RIVER  SPRINGS. 
Determination  of  longitude , September  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

25 

30 

00 

8 

14 

58.7 

25 

57 

50 

16 

16  0 

26 

15 

40 

17 

07.0 

27 

08 

30 

19 

39.0 

27 

46 

00 

21 

’ 24.5 

Index  error  = -}-  1 min.  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


- 

- 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

^ h.  min . sec. 

7 14  16 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 03  37  3 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

1 14  25  04 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris 


Deg  min.  sec. 

86  58  40 

87  00  ‘ 25 

87  00  50 

87  01  50 

87  02  30 

87  03  20 

87  04  00 

87  05  25 

87  05  20 

87  „ 07  30 


Index  error  = -}-  1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

43  31  18 

8 49  51 

42  38  44 

Time  of  chronometer. 


min. 

sec . 

48 

23 

49 

55 

51 

01 

52 

33 

53 

42 

55 

02 

56 

02 

57 

23 

58 

27 

00 

57 

/ 


417 


[ 174  J 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  OPPOSITE  TO  THE  RIVER  SPRINGS. 
Determination  of  longitude,  Sept.  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

i ’ 

Double  altitudes  of  a Lyr®.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

?nin. 

sec. 

101 

39 

00 

10 

27 

50.5 

101 

02 

20 

29 

31.5 

100 

36 

10 

30 

45.4 

Index  error  = 1 min.  40  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 24  52 

1 04  30.8 

1 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  TWO  MILES  BELOW  FISHING  FALLS. 
Determination  of  latitude,  October  1,1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

, OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

87 

20 

40 

10 

13 

44 

87 

21 

10 

15 

05 

87 

22 

40 

16 

48 

87 

23 

10 

18 

20 

87 

24 

20 

19 

24 

87 

25 

10 

21 

06 

87 

26 

00 

22 

28 

87 

26 

40 

23 

27 

87 

27 

30 

24 

42 

87 

27 

50 

25 

42 

Index  error  = -}-  1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Deg,  min . sec. 
43  42  00 


Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

9 15  28 

42  40  11 

27 


418 


r 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  TWO  MILES  BELOW  FISHING  FALLS. 
Determination  of  longitude,  October  1, 1S43 — altitudes  of  » Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

8ERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Lyrse. 

a 

Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

99 

21 

30 

10 

30 

24.0  i 

97 

28 

15 

10  35 

42.0 

98 

56 

00 

31 

36.0 

97 

06 

30 

36 

42.6 

98 

35 

20 

32 

33.0 

96 

43 

50 

37 

45.0 

98 

18 

10 

33 

23.0 

96 

27 

20 

38 

31.0 

97 

58 

30 

34 

15.4 

95 

50 

50 

40 

14.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude, 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 30  29 

1 04  37.7 

114  35  12 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude,  October  2,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

4 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

87  56  10 

10  25  48 

87  57  40 

27  28 

87  58  10 

28  38 

•87  59  10 

29  47' 

87  59  25 

31  03 

88  01  05 

32  37 

88  01  00 

33  43 

88  01  30 

35  08 

88  02  50 

36  28 

88  03  20 

37  39 

I 


Thermometer  50°. 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION, 

. — 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

43  59 

46 

9 26  35 

42  53  40 

419 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , October  2,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrae. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrae. 

a 

Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

92 

55 

15 

10 

45 

28.4 

90 

53  40 

10  51 

09.5 

92 

26 

20 

46 

49.0 

90 

29  40 

52 

19  0 

91 

59 

40 

48 

07.0 

90 

06  20 

53 

24.7 

91 

36 

30 

49 

10.0 

89 

46  15 

54 

22.0 

91 

16 

50 

50 

05.3 

89 

22  00 

55 

31.0 

Thermometer  48°. 5. 


Index  error  =4-1  min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 45  23 

1 05  15.3 

1 14  53  04 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  FORD  WHERE  THE  ROAD  CROSSES  SNAKE  RIVER, 

Determination  of  latitude , October  3 , 1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

87  50  10 

10  04  19 

87  51  50 

05  52 

87  52  50 

07  14 

87  53  50 

09  03 

87  54  10 

10  31 

87  55  20 

11  58 

87  56  45 

13  38 

87  57  30 

15  24 

87  58  30 

17  08 

87  59  25 

• 18  54 

Index  error  = 4-1  min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec • 

43  57  15 

9 05  57 

42  55  68 

420 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  FORD  WHERE  THE  ROAD  CROSSES  SNAKE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude,  October  3,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrx. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg 

. min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

95 

05 

20 

10 

35 

’43.4 

92 

56 

45 

10 

41 

42.0 

94 

39 

30 

36 

54.3 

92 

30 

30 

42 

58.0 

94 

12 

10 

38 

12.0 

92 

05 

10 

44 

10.4 

93 

50 

50 

39 

11.0 

91 

41 

00 

45 

17.0 

93 

24 

50 

40 

24.5 

91 

11 

50 

46 

39.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min . 

sec. 

1 9 35  38.29 

1 05 

28.9 

115  04 

46 

Emersion  of  the  first  satellite  of  Jupiter. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Observed  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

11  30  42 

1 05  30.3 

115  19  24 

421 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BIG  WOOD  RIVER,  OR  RIVIERE  BOISEE. 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  7,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

✓ 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

36 

22 

55 

4 

46 

24.0 

35 

28 

50 

4 

49 

11.0 

36 

10 

00 

47 

03.6 

35 

20 

35 

49 

36.8 

36 

01 

05 

47 

31.0 

35 

02 

00 

50 

35.3 

35 

48 

20 

48 

08.7 

34 

53 

30 

51 

00.5 

35 

39 

25 

48 

37.8 

34 

45 

20 

51 

25.0 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

3 

42  14 

1 

06  42.3 

115  54 

46 

Determination  of  latitude,  October  7,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris,  ( with 

the  sextant.) 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

21 

40 

8 

38 

54 

88 

22 

30 

40 

49 

88 

24 

20 

42 

49 

88 

25 

25 

44 

14 

88 

/ 

26 

40 

45 

15 

Index  error  ==  -f-  1 min.  30  sec.  # 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  11  49 

7 35  48 

43  35  33 

422 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  BIG  WOOD  RIVER,  OR  RIVIERE  BOIS&E. 

Determination  of  latitude,  October  7,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris,  {with 

the  circle.) 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Circle  readings. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

664 

38 

20 

8 

57 

19 

177 

17 

20 

9 

02 

33 

104 

03 

30 

07 

35 

354 

52 

20 

10 

58 

281 

43 

40 

13 

51 

532 

33, 

00 

19 

26 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  21  45 

8 02  01 

43  35  08 

Mean  latitude  43  deg.  S5  min.  21  sec. 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  BIG  WOOD  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  S,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris,  ( with 

the  sextant .) 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

88  35  50 

8 40  39 

88  37  00 

42  24 

88  38  20 

43  36 

88  39  40 

46  58 

88  41  10 

48  17 

88  42  10 

49  27 

88  43  20 

50  45 

88  44  40 

52  41 

88  46  10 

54  05 

88  46  20 

■ — 1 

55  42 

Index  error  = 4"  1 min.  30  sec. 
Thermometer  50°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

44  20  29 

7 

40  34 

43  51 

05 

423 


[ 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  BIG  WOOD  RIVER. 

Altitudes  of  Polaris,  ( with  the  circle.)  October  8,  1843. 


Circle  readings.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 

04 

35 

177 

49 

50 

09 

28 

12 

03 

355 

52 

20 

14 

08 

15 

29 

533 

55 

40 

17 

05 

19 

12 

712 

06 

20 

20 

38 

23 

45 

170 

17 

30 

26 

44 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

1 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

44  29  53 

8 08  26 

43  40 

42 

s — .A — 

Mean  latitude  43  deg.  40  min.  53  sec. 


[ 174  ] 


424 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  BIG  WOOD  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude,  October  8,  1843 — altitude  of  a Lyrse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of 
a Lyrse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of 
a Lyrse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Def  • min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Ill  14  50 

9 34  06 

95  54  00 

10  17  09.5 

interrupted  by 

clouds.  - 

Thermometer  47°.  5. 


Determination  of  longitude — altitudes  of  a Jlquilse . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


— - 

Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

— 

80 

31 

00 

10 

24 

05.0 

80 

12 

20 

25 

04.4 

79 

52 

20 

26 

09.0 

Index  error  = 1 min.  30  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 17  16 

1 07  49.7 

116  22  40 

j 


425 


C 174  ] 


AT  FORT  BOISEE. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  10,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris , (with 

the  sextant.) 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

89 

17 

40 

9 

10 

55 

89 

18 

30 

12 

07 

89 

19 

50 

13 

55 

89 

21 

20 

15 

48 

89 

22 

20 

17 

22 

89 

23 

10 

18 

28 

89 

24 

20 

19 

56 

89 

25 

30 

22 

14 

89 

27 

00 

23 

57 

89 

27 

50 

25 

15 

Index  error  = -{-  1 min.  30  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  41  09 

8 09  44 

43  48  54 

Altitudes  of  Polaris,  ( with  the  circle})  October  10,  1S43. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Circle  readings. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 

40 

22 

179 

27 

40 

42 

42 

44 

55 

359 

01 

30 

45 

55 

47 

50 

538 

28 

00 

49 

13 

51 

50 

713 

00 

50 

56 

05 

58 

02 

177 

39 

20 

59 

52 

Thermometer  50°. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  51  59 

8 41  26 

43  49  51 

Mean  latitude  43  deg.  49  min.  32  sec. 


[ 174  ] 


426 


AT  FORT  BOISEE. 

Determination  of  longitude , October  10,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  ! 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Lyrae. 

a 

Lyra. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

94 

32 

20 

L0 

13 

44.0 

92 

34 

00 

10 

19 

21.0 

94 

02 

50 

15 

07.5 

92 

15 

50 

20 

12.7 

93 

44 

40 

16 

00.0 

91 

57 

30 

21 

05.0 

93 

24 

10 

16 

58.0 

91 

37 

40 

22 

02.0 

92 

56 

00 

18 

16.6 

91 

19 

40 

22 

52.7 

Index  error  = 1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h . min.  set. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 10  17 

1 08  16.8 

116  47  00 

Emersion  of  Jupiter's  first  satellite . 

Jupiter  about  10°  high;  moon  bright;  night  very  clear;  the  planet  a little  yellow,  with  a mist  of 
the  horizon;  observation  good. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 23  12  a.  m. 

0 14  59.6  a.  m. 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  BELOW  BIRCH  CREEK. 

Determination  of  longitude , October  12,  1843 — emersion  of  the  first 

satellite  of  Jupiter . 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

% 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec < 

7 50  23 

6 42  25.1 

117  10  19 

427 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SNAKE  RIVER,  BELOW  BIRCH  CREEK. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  12,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

90 

11 

40 

8 

56 

58 

90 

12 

10 

58 

19 

90 

13 

50 

59 

53 

90 

14 

00 

9 

01 

05 

90 

15 

15 

02 

09 

90 

16 

30 

i 

03 

41 

90 

17 

20 

05 

28 

90 

17 

50 

06 

54 

90 

19 

20 

08 

35 

90 

20 

50 

10 

31 

Index  error  =4-1  min.  28  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
45  07  42 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 55  25 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  17  36 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  12,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrae. 

a 

Lyrae. 

.. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

87 

02 

00 

10 

27 

47.0 

85 

17 

30 

10 

32 

49.5 

86 

36 

10 

29 

01.7 

*84 

59 

25 

33 

41.0 

86. 

14 

30 

30 

04.0 

84 

42 

00 

34 

34.0 

85 

52 

50 

31 

07.3 

84 

23 

40 

35 

26.0 

85 

34 

30 

32 

00.0 

84 

06 

20 

36 

16.0 

Thermometer  40°. 

Index  error  =+  1 min.  28  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

9 24  22 

1 

07  55.1 

428 


[ H4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  HEAD  WATERS  OF  BURNT  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , October  14,  1843 — altitudes  of  Pola?'is. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

91  07  10 

9 13  21 

91  08  45 

15  22 

91  09  50 

17  03 

91  10  50 

18  13 

91  11  20 

19  13 

91  11  45 

20  17 

91  13  10 

21  47 

91  13  30 

22  44 

91  14  40 

23  41 

91  15  40 

25  00 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  28  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  35  37 

8 

11  58 

44  37  34 

• 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  14,  1843 — altitudes  of  a jiquilx. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Aquilae. 

a 

Aquilae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec.  « 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

18 

10 

9 

29 

03.0 

87 

00 

15 

9 

33 

55.4 

87 

59 

20 

30 

12.0 

86 

42 

10 

> 

35 

00.5 

87 

45 

15 

31. 

06.0 

86 

27 

10 

35 

55.2 

87 

32 

00 

31 

56.3 

86 

12 

00 

36 

52.0 

87 

15 

50 

32 

56.0 

85 

57 

30 

37 

45.0 

Thermometer  44°. 


Index  error  = + 1 min.  28  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


_ 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
8 25  46 

h.  min.  sec. 
1 07  41.9 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
117  09  49 

429  [ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  OLD  BED  OF  POWDER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  15,  1S43 — immersion  of  the  third 

satellite  of  Jupiter. 


Emersion  of  the  third  satellite  of  Jupiter. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 

07 

04 

5 58  54 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

10  30  02 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 30  56 

Determination  of  latitude,  Octobeg  15,  IS43 — altitudes  of  Polaris, 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

91 

36 

10 

9 14 

49 

91 

38 

00 

16 

35 

91 

38 

50 

17 

57 

91 

39 

00 

19 

23 

91 

40 

10 

21 

34 

91 

42 

10 

22 

55 

91 

42 

40 

24 

43 

91 

44 

00 

25 

54 

91 

44 

10 

27 

09 

91 

45 

30 

29 

06 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = 4-1  min.  26  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec* 

45  50  18 

8 13  54 

44  50  32 

[ 174  ] 


430 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  OLD  BED  OF  POWDER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , October  15,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrae* 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrse. 

a Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

92 

13 

10 

10 

01 

57.3 

90 

28 

20 

10 

07 

01.0 

91 

50 

30 

03 

00.0 

90 

06 

10 

08 

04.5 

91 

30 

45 

03 

57.6 

89 

46 

45 

09 

00.7 

91 

14 

00 

04 

47.0 

89 

26 

40 

10 

00.0 

90 

50 

25 

05 

54.6- 

89 

1 

04 

00 

11 

05.0 

Index  error  =4-1  min.  26  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 58  23 

1 08  06.0 

117  24  21 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  POWDER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

54 

08 

00 

10 

29 

45.5 

54 

17 

40 

30 

28.0 

54 

28 

30 

* 

31 

14.0 

54 

37 

40 

31 

52.5 

54 

43 

30 

32 

20.4 

Index  error  = 1 min-  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h . min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 23  14 

1 

07  54.0 

117  29  22 

431 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  POWDER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  lati(ude,  October  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

91 

09 

20 

8 05 

05 

91 

10 

40 

06 

33 

91 

11 

00 

07 

24 

91. 

11 

50 

08 

27 

91 

13 

10 

10 

18 

Index  error  ==  + 1 min.  26  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  35  22 

6 59  38 

44  59  29 

Determination  of  longitude , October  16, 1S43 — altitudes  of  a Jlndromedx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a 

Andromedae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 
■ 97 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

36 

50 

8 16 

58.0 

98 

06 

40 

18 

23.0 

98 

42 

00 

20 

04.0 

Index  error  = -j- 1 min.  26  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 10  33 

1 07  55.3 

[ 174  1 


ENCAMPMENT  IN  THE  GRAND  ROND. 

Determination  of  latitude,  October  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

93  00  25 

9 19  56 

93  01  30 

21  55 

93  02  20 

23  14 

93  02  30 

24  33 

93  03  30 

25  45 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  23  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

\ 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

46  30  48 

8 16  20 

45  26  47 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyra e. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec.  j 

98  37 

00 

9 

30 

58.0 

98  06 

30 

32 

27.0 

97  42 

40 

33 

36.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  23  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 25  36 

1 06  42.8 

117  28  26 

ton 
-i  - > 


e:c"a:.:?me:\t  ox  the  blue  mountains,  east  of  the  summit. 
Deli.r.iiiaatiun  if  lUngiluJe,  0 closer  19,  181 A — uililudes  of  a Lyn 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SEcoxn 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyr  ae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

D:g. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

De<r. 

, min. 

sec. 

Ti. 

min. 

sec. 

67 

20 

40 

11 

00 

04.5 

64 

35 

20 

11 

08 

38.0 

66 

53 

10 

01 

3G.0 

64 

12 

40 

09 

51.0 

66 

30 

10 

02 

41.0 

63 

50 

40 

11 

OO.o 

65 

50 

50 

04 

46.5 

63 

31 

00 

12 

02.4 

64 

59 

00 

07 

27.5 

62 

56 

30 

13 

51.4 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
10  01  03 

Jl.  7/lT'i . see. 

1 06  08.0 

De?.  min.  s'c. 
117  28  34 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

it 

•s- 

g ^ 

5s  cs 

h.  min.  sec. 
8 31  54 

» 


28 


[ 174  ] 434 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  BLUE  MOUNTAIN?,  EAST  OF  THE  SUMMIT. 
Determination  of  latitude , October  19,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

94 

13 

20 

11 

18 

53 

94 

12 

20 

20 

48 

94 

13 

40 

23 

01 

94 

13 

50 

25 

15 

94 

15 

20 

26 

43 

94 

15 

00 

28 

56 

94 

15 

30 

30 

24 

94 

15 

30 

32 

00 

94 

15 

50 

33 

20 

94 

15 

50 

34 

59 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  s<?  c. 

47  07  07 

10  21  18 

45  38  07 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  WALAHWALAH  RIVER,  AT  THE  FOOT  OF  THE  MOUN- 
TAINS. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  23,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

93  38  30 

8 34  52 

93  39  40 

36  32 

93  40  20 

37  37 

93  41  10 

38  39 

93  41  20 

39  37 

Index  error  = 1 min.  22  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION.  * 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

46  49  52 


Mean  time. 


min.  sec. 
31  21 


Latitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec . 

45  53  35 


435 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  WALAHWALAH  RIVER,  AT  THE  FOOT  OF  THE  MOUN- 
TAINS. 

Determination  of  longitude , October  23,  IS43 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyr*. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

108  09  30 

8 43  29 

107  47  10 

44  36 

107  23  30 

45  47 

106  33  00 

48  09 

106  10  50 

49  il 

Index  error  = + I rain.  22  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  see. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 40  08 

1 06  06.3 

118  00  39 

AT  FORT  NEZ  PERCE. 

Determination  of  latitude , Oct.  26, 1S43 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  mm. 

sec. 

62 

20 

20 

0 37 

43 

62 

21 

50 

38 

35 

62 

23 

30 

39 

33 

62 

24 

45 

40 

49 

62 

25 

10 

41 

35 

62 

25 

45 

42 

26 

62 

26 

40 

43 

14 

62 

27 

25 

45 

10 

62 

38 

30 

48 

13 

62 

28 

35 

49 

11 

62 

29 

10 

49 

44 

62 

29 

15 

50 

39 

62 

28 

55 

51 

28 

62 

28 

30 

52 

21 

62 

28 

30 

53 

10 

62 

28 

25 

54 

00 

62 

28 

00 

55 

16 

62 

27 

20 

56 

14 

62 

26 

30 

k 

58 

59 

62 

36 

00 

57 

56 

, Index  error  = -{-  1 min.  24  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

0 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

31  29  56 

0 50  54 

46  03  46 

436 


r 174  ] 


NOON  HALT  OX  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  COLUMBIA. 

D derm i nation  of  lati tude,  Oct . QS,  1S43 — meridian  altitude#  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Do:'.!  1?  alti  ides  of  the  sun’s  lower  limh 


tog- 

% 

mm. 

sec. 

h . 

min. 

sec. 

til 

18 

20 

12 

47 

01 

61 

19 

00 

48 

00 

♦>1 

19 

;0 

48 

41 

61- 

18 

20 

.00 

00 

o i 

18 

20 

01 

28 

6: 

18 

10 

52 

09 

Time  of  chronometer. 


index  c:  .‘.  r ~ 1 min.  24  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

: 

EA CAVEMEN  l'  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 
eytaiunilon  of  latitude,  October  30,  IS43 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS.  V 


Lc.uh'e  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

A-  see. 

mm.  see. 

94  08  00 

9 14  46 

. r V O OO 

16  09 

? 4 09  M0 

17  17 

94  1 0 30 

18  42 

i . 1 1 20 

20  01 

94  It  40 

21  27 

94  12  10 

22  19 

Vi-  12  30 

23  32 

91  13  15 

25  24 

94  13  40 

1 V 

26  42 

Index  error  = -{-  1 min.  23  sec. 
RESULT  CF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude/ 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

_ 'it.'. 

4 T * • * 1 

h.  mm.  see. 

8 12  58 

De;*.  min.  see . 
45  50  U5 

437 


r t --  * 

L 


ENCAMPMENT  CN  THE  LEFT  BALK 

Determination  of  'longii udc,  October  30, 

OBSERVATIONS. 


L0LUM3IA  FIVER. 

3 — •.  it  it  u ■ ft  of*  L;g  roe. 


FI  AST  : 

eries. 

sec  os  li 

si  hies. 

Double 

a 

altitudes  of 
Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer,  i 

i Double 
a 

altitudes  of 
Lyrae. 

, Time  of  enrouometer. 

Deg 

min. 

! 

ter. 

h.  m:n 

1 

see.  i 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

83 

31 

10 

9 2D 

33.0  ! 

8l 

47 

50 

9 34 

43 

83 

08 

50 

, 30 

42.3 

8 1 

30 

20 

on 

37 

82 

40 

00 

31 

48.0 

81 

12 

30 

36 

30  . 

82 

26 

JO 

32 

53.0  ! 

80 

54 

10 

37 

25 

82 

05 

30 

33 

51.6  j 

!i  8U 

. 

36 

50 

38 

18 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  23  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

N Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min;  sec- 

8 26  29 

1 07  39.1 

119  22  18 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  31,  1343 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

94 

09 

10 

9 

4<» 

54 

94 

10 

10 

42 

59 

94 

10 

40 

44 

00 

94 

11 

30 

45 

48 

94 

11 

40 

47 

02 

Index  error  = i min.  22  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

L 

•atitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
47  05  06 

h . min.  sec. 
8 35  32 

Deg. 

45 

min.  sec. 
44  23 

C ] 


438 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  COLUMBIA  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , October  31,  1843 — altitude  of  a Lyrae. 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

80  07  40 

9 36  34 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  22  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 27  57 

1 08  37.3 

119  45  09 

MISSIONARY  STATION  AT  THE  DALLES  OF  THE  COLUMBIA, 

j Determination  of  longitude , November  5, 1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  S 

IERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Doable  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

30 

13 

40 

9 

44 

52.0 

30 

56 

50 

9 

47 

41.3 

30 

25 

10 

45 

36.8 

31 

04 

20 

48 

10.6 

30 

33 

20 

46 

11.0 

31 

13 

20 

48 

45.0 

30 

42 

50 

46 

45.0 

31 

19 

45 

49 

13.5 

30 

49 

30 

47 

11.0 

31 

28 

00 

49 

45.7 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  23  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min . sec. 

8 37  11 

1 10  14.1 

439 


[ 174  ] 

STATION  ON  THE  HILLS  IN  THE  REAR  OF  THE  MISSION. 

Determination  of  longitude , November  5,  1843 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  Hmb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

49 

25 

40 

11 

17 

20.5 

49 

42 

30 

19 

14.0 

49 

47 

30 

• 

19 

45.5 

49 

52 

50 

20 

20.0 

49 

58 

00 

20 

55.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  22  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  09  43 

1 10  07.4 

120  53  51 

I 174  ] 440 


■station  on 

■lion  of  In! , 

• ' ' * 

J 

, Nuvatno:'  •’  o.  i 'S  l 
sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

ait  or  mz  mission. 

3 — eriifio  ■■  iu'lifu  Jcs  of  the 

Double  altitudes 

| 

ol  the  sun’s  tower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

7)4,-. 

min . 

S8C. 

h.  min. 

per. 

56 

44 

00 

0 37 

38 

56 

44 

35 

• 

33 

25 

56 

46 

40 

30 

29 

56 

49 

25 

41 

56 

51 

05 

42 

59 

56 

51 

50 

44 

07 

56 

53 

15 

45 

13 

56 

53 

45 

45 

51 

56 

55 

30 

47 

40 

56 

56 

00 

48 

49 

56 

56 

20 

51 

04 

56 

56 

25 

52 

29 

56 

56 

35 

53 

59 

56 

56 

15 

54 

50 

56 

55 

60 

57 

07 

56 

55 

4 9 

5~ 

49 

56 

55 

20 

58 

20 

56 

54 

30 

59 

19 

56 

54 

10 

1 00 

09 

56 

53 

40 

00 

49 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg-  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

28  43  33 

0 53  49 

1 

45  35  21 

4 ! 1 


[ ] 

MISSIONARY  STATION  AT  THE  DALLES  OF  THE  COLUMBIA. 

£fct?rm  in  a t / o n of  latitude^  November  5,  15  LI — 'aW  hides  of  P!  . i. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


.1 


Des:. 

min  ■ 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

93 

53 

00 

9 

26 

31 

93 

54 

20 

28 

08 

93 

54 

15 

29 

3i 

93 

54 

20 

30 

33 

93 

55 

20 

31 

43 

93 

55 

20 

32 

37 

93 

. 56 

10 

33 

50 

93 

56 

25 

34 

51 

93 

57 

20 

35 

45 

93 

57 

30 

36 

53 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Tnae  altitude. 

Mean  time^ 

Latitude. 

min.  sec. 
4S  57  29 

k.  min.  sec. 

8 22  02 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  35  38 

1 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  second  satellite. 

©bs  rved  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

3L  min.  sec. 

3®  43  32 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 33  40 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

120  55  00 

442 


[ 174  ] 

MISSIONARY  STATION  AT  THE  DALLES  OF  THE  COLUMBIA. 
Determination  of  longitude,  November  5,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Lyra r. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyne. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Leg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

72 

38 

JO 

9 

40 

35.5 

71 

10 

50 

9 45 

02.0 

72 

19 

00 

41 

32.4 

70 

50 

20 

46 

05.0 

72 

01 

30 

42 

27.0 

70 

22 

45 

. 47 

29.6 

71 

43 

50 

43 

21.0 

70 

00 

40 

48 

36.5 

71 

27 

40 

44 

10.0 

69 

45 

40 

49 

22.7 

Index  error  = 4-1  min.  22  sec. 


RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

8 

34  59 

1 

09  53.3 

* 

443 


[ 174  J 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  COLUMBIA*  15  MILES  BELOW 

THE  CASCADES. 

Determination  of  longitude,  November  II,  1843 — altitudes  of  Jupiter . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Jupiter. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

32  42  50 

10  13  09.6 

32  08  40 

15  29.5 

31  30  40 

18  01.0 

Index  error  = + 2 min.  6 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 04  41 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec . 

9 45  19 

8 34  50.2 

122  06 

15 

Determination  of  latitude,  November  II,  1845 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

94 

07 

50 

10 

38 

08 

94 

08 

10 

41 

13 

94 

09 

10 

42 

43 

Index  error  = -j-  2 min.  6 sec- 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

47  04  00 

9 30  16 

45 

33 

09 

€ 1:4  ] 444 

Encampment  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Columbia,  15  miles  below 

THE  CASCADES. 

Detenninciiion  of  longitude.  November  12,  1S43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

.33 

28 

40 

10“  13 

08.0 

33 

46 

20 

14 

28.0 

34 

00 

30 

15 

32.5 

34 

11 

10 

16 

24.0 

34 

24 

00 

17 

18.0 

Index  error  = -f-  2 min.  6 sec. 
RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

9 05  10 

1 

10  12.3 

Determination  rf  latitude.  Nov . 12,  1843 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


observations. 


Double  altitudes  of 

the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  > 

HI  i i) . 

■'(C. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

58 

00 

0 

51 

40 

52 

57 

40 

52 

53 

52 

58 

10 

53 

56 

52 

56 

50 

58 

33 

52 

54 

00 

1 

02 

51 

52 

53 

50 

03 

30 

52 

53 

30 

04 

11 

52 

52 

2-K 

05 

09 

Index  error  = -f-  2 min.  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

26  44  24 

0 54  25 

45  33  19 

445  [ 174  1 ’ 

MISSIONARY  STATION  AT  THE  DALLES  OF  THE  COLUMBIA. 

Dcermin  at  ion  of  lime,  November  20,  IS43 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

1" 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Denote  altitudes  of  the 
sun's  lower  limb. 

Time 

of  chrohoraeter. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

2f-g 

. mill. 

sec. 

h. 

Illl'l  . 

see. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

35 

53 

20 

10 

35 

52.0 

36  22 

20 

10  38 

25.4 

36 

00 

20 

36 

26.5 

*36  23 

,10 

38 

54.7 

.36 

05 

25 

36 

54.7 

30  33 

10 

39 

22.3 

36 

11 

15 

37 

25.0 

36  38 

10 

39 

49.4 

36 

17 

10 

37 

56.2 

36  43 

40 

40 

20.0 

Index  error  = -f-  2 min.  6 sec 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 36  11 

V 

k.  min.  sec. 

1 01  57.9 

— f— 

Determination  of  time,  November  20,  IS  i3 — altitudes  of  a dhjuilse, 

OBSERVATIONS. 

Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilas. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

89  41  00 

89  19  00 

89  05  40 

8S  51  20 

88  37  50 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 46  41.6 

48  08.0 

49  02.5 

50  03.4  c 

50  54. 0 

9 

Index  error  ==  2 min.  6 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

h.  min.  ser. 

5 47  24 

h.  min.  sec. 

i 01  34.3 

Emersion  of  Jupiter's  third  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

h min.  sec.  j h.  min.  sec. 

6 27  48  5 26  13 

446 


i 174  ] 

MISSIONARY  STATION  AT  THE  DALLES  OF  THE  COLUMBIA.* 
Determination  of  latitude. , Nov.  21,  IS43 — meridian  altitudes  of  tne  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

**  Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

48 

25 

40 

0 

46 

56 

48 

26 

10 

47 

56 

48 

26 

30 

48 

45 

48 

25 

50 

50 

13 

48 

25 

40 

50 

54 

48 

25 

25 

51 

42 

48 

25 

05 

52 

30 

48 

24 

40 

53 

32 

Index  error  = -f-  2 min,  6 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg * min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

24  29  23 

0 47  28 

45  35  55 

Determination  of  time , November  24,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Lyrse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

81 

32 

30 

7 48  23.0 

81 

07 

30 

49  40.5 

Index  error  = -J-  2 min. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min.  sec. 

6 49  41 


Advance. 


h.  min.  sec. 

0 59  20.7 


"*  The  daily  losing  rate  of  the  chronometer,  obtained  from  the  observations  at  this  place,  is  33".  13. 


447 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A LARGE  BRANCH  OF  FALL  RIVER,  (RIVIERE  AUX 

CHUTES.) 

Determination  of  longitude,  November  26,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyras. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOXD ! 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

c 

Lyrse. 

a Lyrse. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

15 

00 

7 

35 

35.7 

80 

49 

00 

7 

39 

47.4 

81 

33 

10 

37 

39.5 

80 

33 

00 

40 

35.5 

81 

07 

40 

38 

53.5 

80 

17 

20 

41 

21.2 

Index  error  = -f-  2 min.  4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

6 

41  53 

0 

57  06.0 

# 

Determination  of  latitude , November  26,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

93 

07 

50 

7 

45 

24 

93 

08 

20 

46 

32 

93 

08 

40 

47 

28 

93 

09 

10 

48 

24 

93 

09 

10 

49 

10 

93 

09 

50 

50 

09 

93 

10 

15 

51 

29 

93 

10 

25 

52 

23 

93 

11 

15 

* 

53 

15 

93 

11 

35 

54 

15 

Index  error  ==  -f-  2 min.  4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

46  34  56 

6 52  45 

45  14  24 

C 3 


* • -v 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  SOUfil  END  OF  TAII1  PRAIRIE. 

D'j‘  ■nlna'wn  of  longitude,  November  d7,  IS  13 — -attitudes  of  & L$rx-  \ 


observations, 


FIRST  SF.raF.S. 

SECOND 

S-R1LS. 

J)u.u*!e 

altitudes  of  j 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

an;»,. 

desef 

Time 

of 

a 

Lyraj. 

a 

LyriE 

. 

Den. 

iin. 

se\ 

h. 

m in . 

| 

sec. 

Dm. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

€9 

04 

10 

8 

10 

48.0 

67 

20 

10 

S 

16 

m.r> 

68 

3G 

40 

12 

11.5 

67 

03 

20 

'fi 

5«.«: 

68 

18 

30 

13 

07.6 

! 66 

46 

40 

17 

50.ff 

68 

00 

30 

14 

02.6 

| 66 

28 

30 

18 

45  M 

67 

45 

15 

14 

50.5 

| 66 

13 

00 

19 

XlJf 

Index  error  = 2 min.  4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- ■■rhx.  sec. 

T 18  35 

h.  min.  sec. 

0 56  50. 1 

Dei ar  ruination  of  latitude,  November  27,  IS43 — altitudes  of  PolttrN 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double 

altitudes  of 

Polaris. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

JJtgi 

ruin. 

sec. 

h. 

m in . 

sec. 

93 

04 

20 

8 

24 

11 

93 

05 

CO 

26 

47 

93 

* 05 

10 

28 

09 

93 

05 

10 

29 

13 

93 

06 

30 

30 

38 

93 

06 

Cu 

31 

39 

93 

06 

30 

32 

58 

93 

06 

00 

34 

28 

93 

07 

00 

35 

39 

93 

07 

40 

36 

51 

Index  error  = - 

\~  2 min.  4 sec. 

. 

RESULT  OF  C 

ALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

tjrsr.  min.  sic 

* 

h.  mm.  <•?.?. 

Deer.  min.  *«-- 

46  36  02 

7 34  13 

*> 

Cn( 

£ 

449 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  SOUTH  END  OF  TAIH  PRAIRIE. 

Determination  of  longitude , Novemoer  27, 1S43 — immersion  of  Jupiter’s 

third  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time.  | 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
6 53  12 

h.  min.  sec. 
5 56  20 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite. 

Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
7 56  15 

h.  min.  sec. 
6 59  24.5 

Deg.  min . sec. 
121  02  43 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  MAIN  BRANCH  OF  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  November  30,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

' 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k.  min. 

sec . 

91 

56 

50 

7 47 

37  v 

91 

57 

15 

49 

23 

91 

58 

20 

51 

09 

Index  error  = 4-2  min. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

k.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  58  48 

6 53  35 

44  35  23 

29 


450 


[ 1?4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  MAIN  BRANCH  OF  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , November  30,  1S43 — altiiudes  of  Cupel  la, 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Capella. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

• 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

30 

30 

7 

54 

28.0 

69 

55 

15 

55 

50.5 

Index  error  = + 2 min. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
6 59  21 

h.  min.  sec . 
0 55  48.3 

Emersion  of  Jupiter’s  second  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  ruin.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 36  11 

6 40  22.6 

121  10  25 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER,  (UNION  FALLS.) 

Determination  of  longitude.  December  5,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrze. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrce. 

a Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

72 

55 

40 

7 

21 

13.5 

71 

27 

15 

7 

25 

37.0 

72 

38 

10 

22 

08.2 

71 

03 

45 

26 

50.5 

72 

20 

30 

23 

00.5 

70 

45 

10 

27 

43.4 

72 

02 

20 

23 

53.7 

70 

29 

00 

28 

33.2 

71 

46 

10 

24 

40.6 

70 

07 

30 

29 

37.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 32  16 

0 53  03.4 

* 

451 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER,  (UNION  FALLS.) 

Determination  of  latitude , December  5,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

• 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

90 

34 

40 

7 

09 

09 

90 

34 

40 

10 

59 

90 

36 

10 

11 

56 

90 

36 

10 

13 

00 

90 

37 

00 

14 

00 

90 

36 

50 

15 

00 

9 6 

37 

15 

15 

49 

90 

38 

00 

16 

42 

90 

38 

40 

17 

45 

90 

38 

20 

18 

42 

Index  error  = -4-  1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

45  16  39 

6 20  42 

43  55 

20 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  December  6,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

54  14 

10 

8 13 

42.4 

53  38 

15 

15 

33.0 

53  06 

30 

17 

14.3 

Index  error  = 1 min.  30  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

7 22  43 

i ° 

52  46.9 

[ 174  ] 


452 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  6,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec.  , 

h.  min.  sec. 

90  29  00 

8 20  51 

90  29  15 

22  07 

90  29  15 

24  00 

90  29  10 

26  00 

90  29  05 

28  00 

Index  error  = -{-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  14  22 

7 31  25 

43  44  15 

THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude . Dec.  8,  1S43 — immersion  of  r\  Geminorum. 


Observed  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

1 23  08  a.  m. 

121  33 

50 

Determination  of  longitude , December  8,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Rigel. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Rigel. 

Tim®  of  chronometer 

Deg. 

min. 

1 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

14 

30 

2 

12 

32.0  a.  m. 

69 

56 

30 

14 

30.0 

69 

43 

00 

16 

00.0 

69 

27 

40 

17 

36.5 

69 

10 

00 

19 

36.5 

Index  error  = 1 min.  32  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h . min.  sec. 

1 23  25 

0 52  37.7 

453 


[ 174  ] 


THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  FALL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  8,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

k Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

87 

49 

10 

1 

47 

44  a.  m. 

87 

47 

30 

49 

49 

87 

46 

40 

50 

52 

87 

45 

30 

51 

51 

87 

44 

40 

53 

08 

87 

44 

25 

54 

00 

87 

43 

00 

55 

03 

87 

42 

25 

56 

20 

87 

41 

00 

57 

18 

87 

40 

45 

58 

13 

Index  error  = -p  1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

43  52  01 

1 00  38 

43  30  36 

CAMP  IN  A PINE  FOREST. 


Determination  of  latitude , December  8,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

89 

10 

00 

6 

42 

25  p.  m. 

89 

11 

00 

43 

24 

89 

11 

45 

44 

11 

89 

12 

30 

45 

12 

89 

12 

30 

46 

07 

89 

13 

10 

47 

14 

89 

13 

15 

. 

48 

23 

89 

13 

40 

49 

21 

89 

13 

50 

50 

02 

89 

14 

30 

50 

46 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

* 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  set. 

44  36 

05 

5j  53  57 

43  17  49 

t 


[ 174  ] 


454 


CAMP  IN  A PINE  FOREST. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  8, 1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrx. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

55 

10 

6 

53 

09.0 

77 

31 

50 

54 

17.0 

77 

14 

30 

55 

04.5 

76 

55 

00 

56 

03.4 

6 

76 

38 

15 

56 

52.5 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec • 

6 02  19 

0 

52  46.3 

Determination  of  longitude,  December  8,  1843 — altitudes  of  Capella. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

62 

23 

10 

7 

01 

00.0 

62 

44 

10 

02 

12.7 

63 

00 

10 

03 

06.0 

63 

20 

10 

04 

10.6 

64 

01 

20 

06 

27.5 

Index  error  = 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 10  39 

0 52  44.5 

455 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  TLAMATH  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  December  10.  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.\ 

min. 

sec. 

88 

56 

10 

8 

25 

07 

88 

56 

10 

26 

27 

88 

55 

40 

27 

17 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

44  27  46 

7 

35  27 

42  56 

51 

Determination  of  longitude,  December  10,  1843 — altitudes  of  Capella. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

92 

56 

30 

8 

30 

05.5 

93 

17 

30 

31 

11.0 

93 

38 

40 

32 

16.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


_L 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 39  52 

0 51  18.5 

[ 174  ] 


456 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  TLAMATH  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  11,  1S43 — meridian  altitudes  of  the 

sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec, 

47 

24 

30 

0 

32 

11 

47 

25 

15 

33 

09 

47 

27 

15 

34 

30 

47 

28 

40 

36 

52 

47 

29 

25 

38 

00 

47 

30 

10 

40 

29 

47 

30 

35 

/ 

41 

24 

47 

30 

35 

43 

05 

47 

31 

15 

43 

57 

47 

31 

40 

44 

54 

47 

31 

15 

46 

11 

47 

31 

05 

46 

56 

47 

30 

20 

47 

49 

47 

29 

40 

48 

55 

47 

29 

20 

49 

56 

47 

28 

10 

52 

08 

47 

27 

00 

53 

20 

47 

25 

45 

54 

36 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  32  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

24  00  33 

0 44  11 

42  58  23 

457 


[ 174  3 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  TLAMATH  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  11,  1S43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer.  ' 

Leg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

41 

30 

7 

00 

45 

89 

41 

20 

02 

00 

88 

41 

30 

02 

59 

88 

41 

35 

04 

22 

88 

42 

10 

05 

42 

Index  error  = -+-  1 min,  32  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Leg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Leg.  min.  sec. 

44  20  35 

6 12  53 

42  56  47 

Determination  of  longitude , December  11,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse » 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyra. 

a 

Lyra. 

Leg.  min. 

sec.  • 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

67  34 

00 

7 

09 

05.5 

65 

58 

45 

7 

13 

47.3 

67  06 

10 

10 

25.7 

65 

35 

00 

14 

56.6 

66  47 

40 

11 

22.0  t 

65 

19 

20 

15 

44.8 

66  32 

40 

12 

07.5 

65 

03 

20 

16 

34.5 

66  15 

50 

12 

56.5 

64 

42 

20 

17 

35.8 

Index  error  = 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

6 22  44 

0 

50  43.5 

458 


E m ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  LAKE  AND  HEAD  WATEfc  OF 

THE  TLAMATH  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  13,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIFS. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrae. 

a 

Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec - 

63 

40 

10 

7 

10 

36.5 

61 

57 

00 

7 

15 

49.8 

63 

13 

10 

11 

56.5 

61 

37 

50 

16 

44.4 

62 

50 

40 

13 

04.0 

61 

19 

35 

17 

40.5 

62 

34 

40 

13 

54.0 

61 

01 

40 

18 

36.0 

62 

11 

45 

15 

03.7 

60 

44 

00 

19 

30.0 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

6 

26  37 

0 

48  41.0 

Emersion  of  Jupiter's  first  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

6 07  04 

5 18  21.6 

121  20  42 

459 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  TO  THE  LAKE  AND  HEAD  WATER  OF  THE 

TLAMATH  RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude , December  13,  IS 43 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

38 

20 

' 7 

24 

09 

88 

39 

30 

25 

41 

88 

39 

10 

26 

53 

88 

39 

25 

28 

18 

88 

40 

20 

29 

34 

88 

40 

50 

30 

37 

88 

40 

20 

31 

46 

88 

40 

30 

32 

45 

88 

41 

10 

33 

57 

88 

40 

35 

34 

54 

Index  error  = I min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min-  sec. 

44  19  46 

6 41  10 

42  51  26 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SUMMER  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

46 

30 

6 

48 

50 

88 

46 

20 

50 

28 

88 

46 

40 

51 

53 

88 

47 

00 

52 

59 

Index  error  = -f-  1 rain.  35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  23  07 

6 06  48 

42  57  22 

[ 174  ] 


460 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SUMMER  LAKE. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyra. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

67 

50 

20 

6 

42 

08.5 

67 

08 

50 

44 

11.0 

66 

27 

35 

46 

11.5 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min.  35  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

- 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min . sec. 

5 59  59 

0 

44  11.2 

Determination  of  longitude , December  16,  1843 — altitudes  of  Capella, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

% 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

29 

45 

6 

58 

46.0 

73 

53 

50 

7 

00 

04.5 

74 

16 

20 

01 

17.7 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- 

[ 174  ] 


461 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SUMMER  LAKE 

Determination  of  longitude , December  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  Capella. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer.  . 

Deo;,  min.  sec 

k.  min.  sec. 

94  10  50 

7 54  24.0 

94  44  10 

56  07.0 

95  10  00 

57  24.0 

95  31  00 

58  27.5 

95  51  10 

59  27.0 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  37  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec 

h. 

min . sec . 

7 14  30 

0 

42  39.9 

i 

Deter miriatio7i  of  longitude , December  18,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Cygni . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Beg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

03 

50 

8 

19 

24.0 

78 

40 

30 

20 

37.2 

78 

21 

45 

21 

35.4 

78 

04 

25 

22 

29.2 

77 

45 

15 

23 

27.0 

Index  error  = 1 min.  37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 

7 38  57 

7 

h. 

0 

min . 
42 

sec . 
33.1 

462 


[ 1^4  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SUMMER  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  December  18,  1843 -altitudes  of  Polar*. 

OBSERVATIONS.  


Double  altitudes  of  P olaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

27 

00 

88 

27 

40 

88 

27 

35 

88 

27 

40 

88 

27 

30 

88 

27 

10 

88 

27 

50 

88 

27 

45 

88 

27 

25 

88 

27 

40 

Time  of  chronometer. 


min. 

sec. 

02 

20 

03 

50 

05 

00 

06 

15 

07 

38 

' 08 

55 

10 

11 

11 

17 

12 

25 

13 

43 

Index  error  = 1 min-  37  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time.  1 

1 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  13  34 

h.  min . sec. 

7 25  32 

__ 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
| 42  42  37 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  CHRISTMAS  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  December  24,  1843 -altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS.  _ 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

6 

48 

02 

/ 

87 

46 

00 

49 

39 

87 

46 

20 

50 

44 

87 

46 

30 

52 

04 

87 

46 

40 

53 

18 

87 

47 

00 

54 

12 

87 

47 

15 

55 

32 

87 

47 

20 

56 

38 

87 

47 

40 

57 

43 

87 

47 

20 

58 

45 

87 

47 

45 



— 

Index  error  = 4-1  min.  37  %ec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


> 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  see. 

43  53  17 

h.  min.  sec- 

6 17  12 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
42  23  25 

463 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  CHRISTMAS  LAKE. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  24,  1843 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse * 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Doable  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Lyrse. 

a 

Lyrse. 

Deg. 

rain. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

56 

42 

30 

6 34 

50.5  ; 

54 

43  30 

6 

40 

54.0 

56 

18 

15 

36 

03.3 

54 

24  00 

41 

54.4 

55 

56 

20 

37 

08.3 

54 

05  15 

42 

52.4 

55 

37 

00 

38 

09.5 

53 

43  25 

44 

00.0 

55 

17 

00 

39 

10.0 

53 

25  30 

44 

54.0 

Index  error  = -|-  1 min.  37  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

It. 

min. 

sec. 

6 03  44 

0 

36 

15.7 

ENCAMPMENT  IN  DESERT  VALLEY,  AMONG  BLACK  ROCKY  HILLS. 
Determination  of  longitude , December  26,  1843 — altitude  of  a Lyrse . 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of 

a Lyrse. 

Time  ©f  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h,.  min.  sec. 

46  49 

00 

6 55  18.5 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

. 

6 21  33 

0 

34  05.5 

£ 174  ] 464 

ENCAMPMENT  IN  DESERT  VALLEY,  AMONG  BLACK  ROCKY  HILLS. 

Determination  of  latitude,  December  26,  1S43 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATION. 


I 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

87  01  50 

6 59  30 

Index  error  = -j-  1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec 

43  30  44 

6 25  32 

42  00  09 

CAMP  OF  DECEMBER  29-30. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  29,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min . sec. 

85  57  50 

7 ll  58 

85  57  20 

13  40 

85  57  20 

15  07 

8*5  58  00 

16  14 

85  58  10 

17  18 

Index  error  = 4-  1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

42  58  39 

6 42  07 

41  27 

1 

50 

465 


[ 174] 


CAMP  OF  DECEMBER  29-30. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  29,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a CygnL 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

50 

50 

7 

20 

12.5 

79 

27 

00 

21 

25.0 

79 

07 

40 

22 

21.0 

78 

33 

20 

24 

08.0 

78 

11 

10 

25 

16.0 

Index  error  = -J-  1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

i 

NEW  YEAR’S  EVE  CAMP. 

Determination  of  latitude , December  31,  1843 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

85  39  20 

7 32  49 

85  39  00 

34  18 

85  38  50 

35  44 

85  38  25 

36  45 

85  38  40 

37  54 

85  38  30 

39  27 

85  38  20 

40  29 

85  37  50 

41  41 

85  37  10 

43  03 

85  37  30 

44  34 

• 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  40  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  48  58 

<1 

© 

© 

• 

CO 

41  49  55 

30  • 

I 174  ] 


466 


NEW  YEAR’S  EVE  CAMP. 

Determination  of  longitude , December  31,  1S43 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

• 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Cygni 

a 

Cygni 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

. . 

h.  min. 

sec. 

76 

32 

40 

7 

19 

31.0 

74 

14 

50 

7 26 

37.2 

75 

44 

10 

22 

01.0 

73 

54 

50 

27 

38.0 

75 

19 

00 

23 

16.5 

73 

36 

40 

28 

33.0 

74 

59 

40 

24 

17.0 

73 

18 

25 

29 

30.5 

74 

37 

35 

25 

24,5  1 

73 

01 

35 

30 

21.6 

Index  error  = 1 min.  40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 56  37 

0 29  06.3 

CAMP  NEAR  THE  MUD  LAKE. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  3,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

44 

40 

7 

08 

58.0 

74 

22 

00 

10 

07.0 

73 

54 

50 

11 

29.0 

73 

33 

40 

12 

34  0 

73 

11 

15 

13 

43.0 

Index  error  = + 1 min.  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 43  47 



h.  min.  sec. 
0 27  34.8 

» 

467 


[ 174  ] 


CAMP  NEAR  THE  MUD  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude , January  3,  1344 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min ^ sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

84  35  30 

7 18  18 

84  35  15 

20  06 

84  35  50 

22  04 

84  35  15 

24  40 

84  35  10 

25  25 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  45  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

42  17  30 

6 55  31 

40 

48 

15 

CAMP  NEAR  THE  GREAT  BOILING  SPRING. 


Determination  of  longitude,  January  6,  1844 — altitudes  of  » Cygni . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer.  • 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

70  21  40 

7 10  04.0 

70  03  50 

10  56.0 

69.  47  30 

11  45.6 

69  28  20 

12  47.0 

69  08  40 

13  47.5 

Index  error  = 4-  1 min.  48  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

k. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

66 

44  23 

0 

27  23.7 

r 174.] 


46S 


CAMP  NEAR  THE  GREAT  BOILING  SPRING. 
Determination  of  latitude , January  6,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

17 

10 

7 

16 

41 

84 

17 

20 

18 

29 

84 

17 

00 

19 

32 

84 

16 

50 

20 

54 

84 

16 

30 

21 

56 

Index  error  = -f-  1 min.  48  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

^ 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  08  19 

6 52  02 

40  39  44 

Determination  of  latitude , January  8,  1S44,  [same  station ) — meridian 

altitudes  of  the  sun.  # 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s  j 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

1 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

53  35  35 

27  03  07 

40 

39 

49 

Mean  latitude  40  deg.  39  min.  46  sec. 


469 


[ 174  I 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  PYRAMID  LAKE. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  12,  1844 — altitudes  of » Cygni . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of 
a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

63 

59 

00 

6 

45 

14.5 

62 

03  25 

6 

51 

08.5 

63 

34 

00 

46 

31.0 

61 

44  00 

52 

05.5 

63 

15 

50 

47 

24.0 

61 

28  45 

52 

53.0 

62 

39 

45 

49 

14.5 

61 

07  30 

53 

59.0 

62 

20 

25 

•50 

14.0 

60 

48  10 

54 

59.0 

Index  error  = + 43  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

• 

Determination  of  latitude , January  12,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min . 

sec. 

83 

22 

50 

7 00 

20 

83 

22 

40 

01 

39 

83 

22 

30  1 

02 

29 

83 

22 

25 

03 

19 

83 

21 

40 

05 

33 

83 

21 

15 

06 

42 

83 

21 

00 

07 

46 

83 

21 

00 

08 

46 

83 

20 

20 

10 

37 

83 

20 

25 

11 

31 

Index  error  — -f-  43  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

[ 174  ] 


470 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SALMON  TROUT  RIVER. 

Determ  ination  of  latitude,  January  16,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

77  21  10 

3 11  29  a.m. 

77  20  40 

13  13 

77  19  20 

14  32 

77  18  50 

15  43 

77  18  50 

16  ‘45 

77  18  25 

17  59 

77  18  00 

19  12 

77  17  10 

, 20  37 

77  16  30 

21  45 

77  15  50 

23  01 

Index  error  = 44  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

38  38  23 

2 

55  04  a.  m. 

39  51 

13 

Determination  of  longitude , January  16, 1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

90  06  00 

3 41  23.6  a.  m. 

90  33  00 

42  35.8 

90  57  50 

43  43.0 

91  41  35 

45  38.0 

92  11  50 

47  01.0 

Index  error  = — f-  44  sec.  * 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

3 

21  42  a.  m. 

0 

22  21.9  ' 

471 


[ 174  3 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SALMON  TROUT  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  January  16,  1844 — altitudes  of  Procyon.. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

• 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

Tipi  ftf  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69  45 

00 

3 26 

31.2a.m. 

67 

23 

50 

3 

33 

15.4 

69  16 

20 

27 

52.0 

67 

01 

50 

34 

15.0 

68  45 

25 

29 

20.5 

66 

39 

10 

35 

22.0 

68  16 

40 

30 

44.0 

66 

13 

50 

36 

31.5 

67  49 

55 

32 

02.0 

65 

49 

00 

37 

42.0 

Index  error  = 4-  44  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

3 10  02  a.  m. 

0 22  20.0 

CAMP  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA 

NEVADA. 

Determination  of  latitude,  January  IS,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

75  51  50 

6 20  39  a.  m. 

75  51  45 

22  25 

75  51  50 

24  07 

75  53  00 

25  39 

75  52  50 

27  10 

• 75  53  00 

28  31 

Index  error  = -j-  44  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  see . 

37  55  32 

6 05  17  a.  m. 

39  24  16 

I 174  ] 


472 


CAMP  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. 
Determination  of  longitude,  January  IS,  1S44 — altitudes  of » Leonis. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


r ■ 

Double  altitudes  of  a Leonis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

62  12  30 

6 32  13.0  a.  m. 

61  31  00 

34  05.0 

60  28  30 

36  48.5 

Index  error  = -f-  44  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A. 

min.  sec. 

A. 

min.  sec. 

6 

13  59  a.  m. 

0 

20  23.0 

Determination  of  longitude,  January  IS,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyra. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

80  39  50 

6 41  50.0  a.  m. 

81  37  40 

44  31.5 

82  15  45 

46  14.0 

^ 

Index  error  = -}-  44  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

A. 

min.  sec. 

6 23  46  a.  m. 

0 

20  25.4 

/ 


473 


[ 174  ] 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

60 

54 

50 

6 

35 

59.0 

60 

27 

25 

37 

23.5 

60 

10 

20 

33 

•18.0 

59 

52 

35 

39 

15.0 

59 

32 

30 

40 

18.0 

Index  error  = -f-  45  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

6 18  46 

0 

19  28.5 

Determination  of  longitude , January  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  » Orionis. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a 

Orionis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k.  min. 

sec. 

73 

24 

00 

7 01 

01.6 

73 

52 

50 

02 

22.0 

74 

22 

50 

03 

47.0 

« 74 

48 

00 

04 

58.0 

Index  error  = -|-  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

1 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

6 43  32 

0 

19  30.2 

474 


[ 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. 
Deter  mi  nation  of  latitude , January  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

81 

32 

10 

6 

43 

20 

81 

32 

00 

44 

45 

81 

31 

20 

46 

06 

81 

31 

25 

47 

26 

81 

30 

45 

48 

36 

81  • 

30 

20 

50 

13 

81 

29 

45 

51 

24 

81 

29 

25 

53 

10 

81 

28 

45 

54 

56 

81 

29 

00 

56 

10 

Index  error  = — |—  45  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

40  , 44  33 

6 30  14 

39  19  21 

THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. 
Determination  of  latitude , January  21,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

s OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

80 

32 

00 

7 

43 

27 

80 

29 

45 

45 

03 

80 

30 

00 

46 

38 

80 

01 

25 

8 

37 

13 

80 

01 

20 

38 

29 

80 

00 

20 

40 

03 

79 

59 

50 

41 

29 

79 

59 

10 

42 

30 

Index  error  = — |—  50  sec. 


RESULT  OE  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

40  03  01 

7 54  12 

39  01  53 

475 


[ 174  ] 

THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIVER  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA 
Determination  of  longitude , January  21,  1844 — altitudes  of  Procyon . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

55  58  20 

7 54  16.0 

74  20  50 

8 45  10.0 

74  49  50 

46  32.6 

Index  error  = -f-  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

— i ■■ 

m 

8 01  45 

0 18  19.0 

FOURTH  ENCAMPMENT,  NEAR  A GAP. 

Determination  of  latitude , January  22,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

80  12  20 

7 28  41 

80  11  15 

30  05 

80  10  45 

31  41 

80  10  15 

32  48 

80  10  15 

33  48 

80  09  40 

35  01 

80  09  20 

36  13 

80  08  40 

37  30 

80  08  00  * 

38  59 

80  07  10 

40  40 

Index  error  = -f-  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
40  04  09 


Mean  time. 


h.  min.  sec. 

7 16  35 


Latitude. 


Deg.  min . sec . 
38  49  54 


[ 174  ] 


476 


FOURTH  ENCAMPMENT,  NEAR  A GAP. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  22,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Procyon . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Procyon. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

56 

57 

20 

7 

52 

12 

57 

34 

20 

53 

51 

58 

13 

25 

55 

39 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = +[50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

witn.  sec. 

7 

36  01 

0 

17  52.8 

CAMP  ON  A SOUTHERN  BRANCH  OF  THE  STREAM  OF  ENCAMPMENT  OF 

22d  TO  23d. 

Determination  of  latitude , January  23,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

44 

50 

7 

23 

58 

79 

44 

40 

25 

27 

79 

43 

45 

27 

00 

79 

42 

45 

28 

04 

79 

42 

35 

29 

01 

79 

42 

40 

30 

07 

79 

41 

35 

31 

28 

79 

41 

10 

32 

35 

79 

40 

30 

33 

49 

79 

40 

25 

• 

34 

54 

Index  error  = + 50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  50  30 

7 13  01 

38  36  19 

477 


[ 174  ] 


CAMP  ON  A SOUTHERN  BRANCH  OF  THE  STREAM  OF  ENCAMPMENT  OP 

22d  TO  23d. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  23,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Procyon . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg 

. min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

53 

57 

20 

7 33 

415 

55 

41 

10 

7 

43 

16.0 

54. 

24 

30 

39 

53.4 

55 

58 

50 

44 

02.2 

54 

45 

20 

40 

49.0 

56 

20 

00 

44 

59.5 

55 

03 

25 

41 

36.4 

56 

41 

10 

45 

56.4 

55 

20 

30 

42 

21.5 

V 56 

57 

20 

46 

38.0 



Index  error  = 50  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

7 26  12 

0 

16  37.0 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  HEAD  WATERS  OF  A STREAM. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  24,  1844 — altitudes  of  Procyon . 

OBSERVATIONS.  , 


Double  altitudes  of  Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

53 

07 

20 

7 

31 

37.7 

53 

35 

15 

32 

51.0 

53 

58 

45 

33 

53.4 

54 

16 

40 

34 

40.5 

54 

40 

50 

35 

42.7 

55 

00 

20 

36 

36.0 

Index  erior  = 48  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


— r 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude, 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 18  16 

0 15  57.8 

478 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  HEAD  WATERS  OF  A STREAM. 
Determination  of  latitude,  January  24,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  | Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

79 

11 

00 

7 40 

13 

79 

10 

00 

42 

14 

79 

10 

00 

43 

36 

79 

08 

25 

45 

03 

79 

07 

35 

47 

13 

79 

07 

20 

48 

22 

79 

06 

40 

49 

55 

79 

05 

45 

51 

18 

79 

05 

00 

52 

36 

79 

04 

30 

53 

56 

1 


Index  error  = 48  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.,  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

39  33  02 

7 31  29 

38  24  28 

1 

CAMP  ON  A LARGE  STREAM. 

Determination  of  longitude , January  26,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

1 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the  j 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

38 

52 

00 

9 33 

46.5 

39 

50 

30 

9 

37 

23.7 

39 

05 

50 

34 

36.4 

39 

58 

05 

37 

53.0 

39 

15 

30 

35 

12.6 

40 

07 

10 

38 

28.3 

39 

25 

50 

35 

51.0 

40 

16 

35 

39 

01.5 

39 

39 

00 

36 

44.2 

40 

25 

45 

39 

36.2 

Index  error  = — 50  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

1 

Longitude. 

k.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 20 

44 

0 

16 

07.5 

479 


[ 174  ] 


CAMP  ON  A LARGE  STREAM. 

Determination  of  latitude,  Jan.  26, 1S44 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 

observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


.. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

65 

18 

50 

0 

23 

44 

65 

19 

00 

25 

00 

65 

20 

15 

27 

10 

65 

20 

15 

28 

19 

65 

20 

00 

29 

54 

65 

! 9 

50 

31 

04 

65 

19 

30 

32 

31 

65 

18 

15 

34 

03 

65 

17 

05 

35 

07 

65 

16 

15 

1 

36 

21 

Index  error  = -f-  50  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

32 

55 

20 

0 

28 

35 

Determination  of  longitude , January  26,  1844 — distance  from  the  moon’s 

first  limb  to  t^enus. 

OBSERVATIONS  WITH  THE  CIRCLE. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

Circle  reading. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

6 58  05 

59  57 

7 01  20 

02  27 

03  54 

04  58 

06  15 

07  06 

08  17 

09  19 

. 

10  18 

11  25 

12  31 

13  31 

80  35  40 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

see. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

57  55  1 8 

14 

57 

* 

48.8 

121  49  52 

C 1*4  ] 


480 


CAMP  ON  A LARGE  STREAM. 

Determination  of  latitude , January  26,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

• 

78 

53 

30 

7 

39 

59 

• 

78 

53 

45 

42 

02 

78 

52 

10 

43 

08 

78 

51 

50 

44 

42 

78 

51 

15 

46 

19 

Index  error  = — |—  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  25  29 

7 27  20 

38  18  01 

Determination  of  longitude , January  26,  1844 — altitudes  of  Procyon. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

56  15  20 

7 31  49.5 

56  43  25 

33  03.0 

57  16  40 

34  32.0 

57  42  50 

35  41.0 

58  08  40 

36  49.0 

Index  error  = -f-  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


Advance. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

7 

18 

30 

0 

15 

53.2 

Longitude. 


481 


[ 174  ] 


CAMP  ON  THE  SAME  STREAM  AS  ON  THE  NIGHT  OF  JANUARY  18-19. 

Determination  of  longitude,  January  30,  1844 — altitudes  of  Procyon. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIHST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

1 

Double  altitudes  of 
Procyon. 

1 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

• h.  min , sec. 

i Dee;,  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

61  13  00 

7 OS  09.0 

! 63  05  00 

7 13  11.0 

61  44  20 

09  33.0 

63  24  30 

14  03.4 

62  08  15 

10  37.0 

63  44  00 

14  56.5 

62 

62 


26 

45 


40 

40 


26.2 

18.3 


64 

64 


07 

25 


00 

45 


16 

16 


01.4 

52.0 


Index  error  = 4-52  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min. 
7 18 


sec. 

35 


Retard. 


Longitude. 


min. 

05 


sec. 

52.6 


Determination  of  latitude,  January  30,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris » 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

79 

22 

40 

7 19 

55 

79 

22 

50 

21 

38 

79 

22 

00 

22 

45 

79 

20 

40 

24 

01 

79 

20 

30 

25 

23 

79 

19 

40 

26 

27 

79 

18 

50 

27 

35 

79 

18 

10 

28 

37 

79 

18 

10 

29 

26 

79 

17 

45 

30 

24 

Index  error  = 4-52  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

39  39  20 

7 31  31 

33  37 

18 

3i 


[ 174  ] 


482 


FIRST  CAMP  IN  THE  PASS  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. 

Determination  of  latitude , Feb . 5,  1844 — meridian  altitudes  oj  the  sun > 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

02 

35 

0 

00 

48 

70 

03 

30 

01 

52 

# 

70 

04 

25 

04 

34 

70 

04 

40 

05 

19 

70 

04 

15 

06 

08 

70 

04 

45 

06 

59 

70 

04 

40 

07 

44 

70 

04 

20 

08 

25 

70 

04 

20 

09 

54 

70 

04 

00 

10 

57 

70 

03 

35 

12 

03 

70 

02 

50 

13 

02 

Index  error  ==  + 52  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

35  17  49 

0 06  49 

38  42  26 

Determination  of  longitude , February  5,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer.  | 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

45 

28 

30 

2 

52 

40.0 

44  46 

50 

2 

55 

13.0 

45 

20 

15 

53 

11.3 

44  41 

15 

55 

37.4 

45 

09 

30 

53 

48.7 

44  33 

55 

56 

01.4 

45 

01 

15 

54 

19.2 

44  27 

50 

56 

23.7 

44 

51 

15 

54 

47.3 

44  22 

; 

35 

56 

44.5 

Index  error  = -p  52  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min. 
3 02 


sec. 

20 


Longitude. 


483 


[ 174  ] 


THE  LONG  CAMP. 

Determination  of  longitude , February  14,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Procyon. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Procyon. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

06 

50 

6 

48 

02.0 

77 

38 

00 

49 

32.0 

77 

56 

50 

50 

28.0 

78 

17 

40 

51 

28.5 

78 

37 

30 

52 

27.0 

Index  error  = + 52  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

7 

02  00 

0 

11 

36.1 

120  25 

57 

Determination  of  latitude , February  14, 1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  06  20 

6 55  48 

79  05  30 

57  09 

79  03  50 

58  23  - 

79  03  20 

59  43 

79  02  00 

7 00  59 

79  01  35 

01  51 

79  00  50 

02  58 

79  00  10 

03  58 

79  • 00  00 

04  53 

78  58  35 

05  54 

Index  error  = 52  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min 

sec. 

39  30  22 

7 12  46 

38 

41 

03 

[ 174  ] 


484 


THE  LONG  CAMP.* 

Determination  of  time . February  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FfRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

De& r. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

| Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

48 

45 

15 

9 

00 

08.4 

| 49 

35 

10 

9 

02 

56.0 

49 

02 

10 

01 

04.3 

49 

43 

00 

03 

23.0 

49 

09 

40 

01 

29.2  | 

49 

49' 

30 

03 

46.2 

49 

17 

40 

01 

56.5 

49 

58 

50 

04 

18.4 

49 

26 

05 

02 

26.4 

50 

08 

50 

04 

51.0 

Index  error  ==4-50  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 16  21 

0 13  42.8 

* The  daily  losing  rate  of  the  chronometer,  obtained  from  the  observations  at  this  place,  is 
25.82  seconds. 


4 


485 

THE  LONG  CAMP. 


[ 174  ] 


Determination  of  latitude , February  19,  1844 — meridian  altitudes  of 

the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Index  error  = -f-  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

j Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  17  20 

11  50  58 

79  17  50 

51  54 

79  19  10 

52  44 

79  19  05 

53  27 

79  19  40 

54  10 

79  20  55 

55  21 

79  21  20 

56  15 

79  21  20 

57  32 

79  21  50 

58  25 

79  21  55 

59  15 

79  22  05 

0 00  17 

79  22  00 

01  14 

79  21  45 

02  09 

79  21  35 

02  59 

79  21  20 

03  55 

79  20  15 

05  14 

79  20  00 

06  09 

79  18  30 

07  39 

True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  see. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  56  36 

11  59  30 

38  41  51 

/ 


486 


[ 174  ] 

CAMP  ON  THE  RIO  DE  LOS  AMERICANOS,  (HIGH  IN  THE  MOUNTAIN.) 
Determination  of  longitude , February  24,  IS44 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

81 

00 

00 

3 

42 

52.4  a.  m. 

81 

35 

30 

44 

30.0 

82 

01 

45 

45 

40.6 

82 

25 

50 

46 

46.3 

82 

59 

10 

48 

18.6 

Index  error  = — J—  50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

4 00  55  a.  m. 

0 

15 

17.2 

120  34  20 

Determination  of  latitude , February  24, 1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

44 

20 

3 

54 

08  a.  mu 

74 

45 

10 

56 

00 

74 

46 

00 

58 

04 

74 

45 

45 

59 

34 

74 

46 

30 

4 

00 

51 

Index  error  = + 50  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  21  56 

4 13  00  a.  m. 

38  46  58 

487 


[ 174  ] 


NUEVA  HELVETIA. 

Determination  of  time , March  10,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

. i 

! Double  altitudes  of  the 
j sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

37 

40 

15 

7 

45 

33.0 

38 

58 

00 

7 49 

06.7 

38 

00 

50 

46 

32  0 

39 

16 

00 

49 

59.0 

38 

14 

50 

47 

08.0 

39 

27 

45 

50 

30.5 

38 

33 

10 

47 

59.5 

39 

40 

00 

51 

04.4 

38 

45 

45 

48 

33.6 

39 

53 

50 

51 

43.0 

• J 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

06 

28 

0 

17 

38.9 

Determination  of  latitude , March  1 4, 

, 1844 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

96 

49 

40 

11 

21 

36 

97 

05 

05 

25 

22 

97 

17 

50 

29 

59 

97 

31 

00 

33 

28 

97 

37 

00 

35 

56 

97 

40 

40 

37 

33 

97 

41 

30 

38 

35 

97 

51 

50 

46 

58 

97 

52 

30 

47 

58 

97 

52 

15 

52 

00 

Index  error 

==  — 6 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

[ 174  ] 


488 


NUEVA  HELVETIA. 

Determination  of  latitude,  March  14,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h.  min. 

sec. 

77 

08 

40 

7 11 

16 

77 

07 

30 

12 

55 

77 

07 

00 

14 

37 

77 

06 

10 

15 

49 

77 

05 

00 

16 

56 

77 

04 

00 

18 

15 

77 

02 

55 

19 

27 

77 

01 

50 

20 

31 

77 

01 

40 

21 

51 

77 

00 

30 

23 

33 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = — 4 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Dei*,  min. 

.sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

38  31 

01 

7 37  02 

38 

34 

45 

Determination  of  latitude,  March  15, 1844 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 

V OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

98 

35 

30 

11 

42 

35 

98 

37 

30 

43 

41 

96 

38 

20 

45 

09 

98 

38 

20 

46 

02 

98 

39 

10 

47 

03 

98 

39 

20 

48 

31 

98 

39 

20 

49 

22 

98 

39 

00 

50 

30 

98 

39 

00 

51 

24 

98 

38 

40 

52 

22 

98 

38 

30 

53 

19 

98 

37 

* 15 

54 

28 

98 

36 

15 

55 

33 

Index  error  ==  — 4 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

49  35  01 

11  49  04 

38  34  40 

489 


C 174  ] 


NUEVA  HELVETIA. 

Determination  of  time,  March  16,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOXB  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  Time  of  chronometer, 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec.  ; h. 

min. 

sec. 

43 

27 

40  7 

48 

23.2 

43 

40 

00 

48 

58.5 

43 

50 

00 

49 

27.4 

44 

00 

10 

49 

54.0 

44 

12 

40 

50 

28.6 

Double  altitudes  of  the  i Time  of  chronometer, 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

44 

22 

10 

7. 

50 

55.2 

44 

31 

35 

51 

20.4 

44 

42 

00 

51 

53.0 

44 

56 

30 

52 

30.4 

45 

07 

50 

1 

53 

00.5 

Index  error  = — 5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


Retard. 


h.  min.  sec. 

8 10  39 


h.  min.  sec. 

0 19  58.0 


Determination  of  latitude , March  20,  1844 — meridian  altitudes  of  the 

sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

10* 

35 

00 

11  44 

52 

102 

35 

30 

45 

52 

102 

35 

00 

46 

44 

102 

35 

10 

47 

34 

102 

34 

50 

48 

26 

102 

34 

40 

49 

14 

102 

33 

35 

50 

57 

102 

32 

00 

51 

58 

Index  error  = -|-  8 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

51  32  58 

11  46  55 

38  35  15 

Mean  of  latitudes  taken  at  this  station  between  the  10th  and  22d  of  March  ==  38°  34'  42". 


C 174  ] 


490 


NUEVA  HELVETIA.* 

Determination  of  time , March  22,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun's  lower  limb 

■ Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

rain. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec . 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

46 

31 

10 

7 43 

32.5 

47 

21 

50 

7 

45 

52.0 

46 

41 

35 

44 

00.0 

47 

29 

40 

46 

12.4 

46 

50 

00 

44 

22.5 

47 

38 

10 

46 

36.0 

47 

04 

20 

45 

04.0 

47 

45 

50 

46 

56.4 

47 

14 

45 

45 

32.0 

47 

55 

10 

47 

20.6 

Index  error  = -J-  8 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 08  23 

0 22  50.2 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  DE  LOS  MUKELE VINES. 

Determination  of  longitude , March  25,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun  s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

16 

25 

3 

30 

49.5 

51 

19 

10 

3 

33 

21.4 

52 

05 

15 

31 

20.5 

51 

11 

40 

33 

42.5 

51 

52 

10 

31 

54.6 

51 

00 

50 

34 

11.6 

51 

41 

10 

32 

26.0 

50 

52 

50 

34 

34.0 

51 

30 

40 

32 

51.0 

50 

44 

35 

34 

56.0 

Index  error  = -}-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

3 

58  39 

0 

25 

23.7 

Longitude. 


Deg.  rain.  sec. 

121  23  03 


The  daily  losing  rate  of  the  chronometer,  obtained  from  the  observations  at  this  place,  is  25//.74. 


491 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  DE  LOS  MUKELEMNES. 
Determination  of  latitude,  March  25,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

75  32  30 

7 22  23 

75  31  25 

23  28 

75  29  50 

25  10 

75  29  25 

26  07 

75  28  40 

27  22 

75  27  40 

28  21 

75  26  00 

29  51 

75  26  40 

31  14 

75  24  45 

32  21 

75  23  45 

33  10 

Index  error  = + 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

37  42  52 

7 53  21 

38 

08 

23 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  DE  LAS  CALAVERAS. 
Determination  of  longitude , March  26,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

| 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower 

limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

54 

06 

00 

3 26 

21.0 

53 

05 

00 

3 

29 

03.5 

53 

51 

45 

26 

59.4 

52 

58 

30 

29 

22.5 

53 

37 

50 

27 

34.4 

52 

48 

35 

29 

48.7 

53 

26 

30 

• 28 

03.6 

52 

39 

10 

30 

14.0 

53 

15 

10 

28 

36.7 

52 

26 

10 

1 

30 

49.4 

Index  error  = 12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

k. 

min . sec. 

h ■ min. 

sec 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

3 

54  58 

0 26 

16.3 

121  16  22 

[ 174  ] 


494 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  DE  LAS  CALAVERAS. 
Determination  of  latitude , March  26,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


__ 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

14 

35 

7 

23 

33 

75 

14 

10 

24 

44 

75 

13 

15 

26 

07 

75 

12 

40 

1 

27 

30 

75 

11 

00 

29 

07 

75 

09 

50 

30 

32 

75 

08 

25 

32 

20 

75 

07 

40 

33 

31 

75 

05 

30 

35 

31 

75 

04 

35 

37 

23 

Index  error  = -f-  12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

37  33  55 

7 56  22 

38 

02  48 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  STANISLAUS  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude.  March  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

07 

00 

7 

55 

32 

74 

06 

20 

56 

52 

74 

06 

00 

57 

49 

74 

05 

00 

59 

13 

74 

04 

10 

8 

00 

18 

74 

03 

20 

01 

37 

74 

02 

00 

03 

22 

74 

01 

00 

05 

03 

73 

59 

50 

% 

06 

22 

73 

58 

20 

08 

38 

Index  error  = -f-  12  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Dee;. 

37 


nun. 

00 


sec. 

28 


Mean  time. 


mm. 

28 


sec. 

02 


* Latitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  42  26 


493 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  STANISLAUS  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  March  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  Capella. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

» 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Capella. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg 

. min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec.  j 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

91 

02 

45 

8 

11 

31.5  i 

88 

48  50 

9'  18 

05.0 

SO 

' 34 

20 

12 

54.0  1 

88 

27  50 

19 

06.3 

90 

01 

40 

14 

30.0 

| 88 

11  00 

19 

57.5 

89 

39 

20 

15 

35.5 

87 

47  19 

21 

08.0 

89 

15 

30 

16 

46.0 

86 

39  40 

24 

1 

28.5 

Index  error  = +-  12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

hi  min.  sec. 

8 44  41 

h.  min.  sec. 

0 27  16.9 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

121  07  13 

SECOND  ENCAMPMET  ON  STANISLAUS  RIVER. 
Determinat  ion  of  longitude,  March  31,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

\ 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

27 

45 

3 

34 

30.0 

52 

15 

35 

35 

00.5 

52 

00 

10 

35 

42.6 

51 

51 

00 

36 

05.4 

51 

40 

50 

36 

33.4 

Index  error  = -{-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 


h.  min.  sec 

4 05  59 


Longitude. 


Deg-  min.  sec. 

120  46  30 


[ 174  ] 


494 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  STANISLAUS  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , March  31,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

46 

00 

8 

04 

57 

73 

44 

50 

06 

42 

73 

44 

25 

08 

00 

73 

43 

25 

09 

15 

73 

43 

10 

11 

23 

73 

41 

15 

12 

23 

73 

40 

40 

13 

45 

73 

39 

40 

15 

16 

73 

39 

00 

16 

1*8 

73 

38 

10 

17 

37 

Index  error  = -j-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

1 , ? ! 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

36  49  46 

8 42  20 

37  15  43 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A LARGE  TRIBUTARY  TO  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , April  3,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

35 

30 

7 

09 

09 

73 

34 

30 

10 

14 

73 

33 

45 

11 

27 

73 

32 

00 

12 

55 

73 

32 

00 

14 

07 

73 

31 

00 

15 

12 

73 

30 

15 

16 

14 

73 

29 

30 

17 

31 

73 

28 

25 

r . 

19 

14 

73 

27 

20 

20 

23 

Index  error  = 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

36  44  32 

7 47  45 

37  22 

05 

495 


C *74  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A LARGE  TRIBUTARY  TO  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  3,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

43 

50 

8 

00 

48.5 

54 

44 

00 

8 

05 

52.5 

53 

12 

25 

02 

02.0 

55 

08 

20 

06 

54.0 

53 

38 

00 

03 

06.0 

55 

34 

15 

07 

58.6 

54 

01 

00 

04 

04.4 

55 

56 

30 

08 

56.0 

54 

22 

Q0 

04 

58.4 

56 

26 

30 

10 

10.5 

Index  error  = + 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

. h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 36  36 

0 31 

07.3 

120  58  03 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  April  4,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

7a 

53 

20 

7 

26 

28 

72 

53 

10 

27 

48 

72 

51 

50 

30 

29 

72 

50 

40 

31 

57 

72 

50 

00 

33 

24 

72 

48 

45 

35 

15 

72 

47 

10 

36 

52 

72 

46 

10 

38 

33 

72 

45 

00 

39 

39 

72 

44 

20 

41 

27 

Index  error  = + 20  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

1 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

36  23  22 

8 

06  27 

CO 

o 

00 

00 

Time  of  chronometer. 


40  G 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVER. 

Det erminatiori.  of  'longitude,  April  4,  1 S4  l — altitudes  of  Arclurus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitudes  of  Arcturus.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Dee;. 

vt  in. 

sec. 

%. 

min. 

sec. 

51 

35 

00 

,7 

52 

57.5 

52 

10 

40 

54 

26.7 

52 

45 

v 40  ! 

55 

55.0 

53 

17 

40 

57 

16  2 

53 

46 

' 50 

58 

27.7 

Index  error  = -j-  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

1 

Retard. 

* > 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.,  sec. 

8 28  06 

0 32  17.7 

120  45  22 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVE&. 
Determination  of  latitude , April  5,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Poldris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec 

h. 

rain. 

sec. 

/ 

71 

58 

30 

■ 7 

44 

18  ’ 

71 

58 

Oo 

45 

50 

71 

57 

20 

47 

25 

71 

56 

50 

' . ■'  > 

48 

53 

71 

55 

20 

50 

34 

71 

54 

00 

52 

11 

7 1 

52 

20 

53 

56 

71 

52 

20 

">  . 

55 

09 

71 

51 

15 

56 

14 

Index  error  ==  -f-  20  sec- 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

35  56  23 

8 24  20 

36 

: 

49  12 

497 


[ 1T4  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SAN  JOAQUIN  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , April  5,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SEETES. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

| Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

hi  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

57 

46 

00 

8 03 

05.0 

62  26 

10 

8 14 

43.5 

53 

38 

30 

05 

15.5 

| 62  52 

45 

15 

50.0 

59 

04 

15 

06 

'21.0 

63  16 

10 

16 

49.2 

59 

30 

45 

07 

27.0 

63  47 

20 

18 

06.4 

60 

12 

36 

09 

10.6 

64  28 

00 

19 

48.4 

Index  error  = -f-  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 45  35 

0 33  55. 1 

120  28  34 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LAKE  FORK,  (OF  THE  TULARES.) 

Determination  of  longitude , April  8,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES, 

I 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

59 

12 

55 

3 

16 

30.0 

57 

26 

10 

2 

21 

02.4 

58 

39 

50 

17 

53.0 

57 

08 

15 

21 

48.0 

58 

23 

00 

18 

36.0 

j 56 

45 

20 

22 

46.6 

58 

08 

20 

19 

15.5 

56 

23 

50 

23 

41.7 

57 

58 

50 

20 

03.4 

56 

1 

07 

40 

24 

22  6 

Index  error  = + 35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min , sec. 

3 59  01 

0 

38  06.5 

119  41  40 

32 


I 174  ] 498 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LAKE  FORK,  (OF  THE  TULARES.) 
Determination  of  latitude,  April  8,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

71 

15 

15 

7 

21 

23 

71 

12 

30 

25 

07 

71 

11 

10 

26 

39 

Index  error  = 4-  35  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

De?.  mm.  ssc. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

35  35  15 

8 

02  36 

36  24  50 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  8,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

03 

15 

7 

32 

52.5 

52 

42 

30 

34 

29.5 

53 

22 

20 

36 

08.0 

53 

54 

50 

37 

29.0 

54 

29 

50 

38 

57.0 

Index  error  = — 35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

8 14  15 

0 38 

15.6 

499  [ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM,  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  LAKE  TULARES. 
Determination  of  latitude 3 April  9,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris, 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

t ' 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

70  20  00 

7 50  44 

70  19  20 

52  11 

70  18  40 

53  41 

70  17  30 

55  21 

70  17  00 

57  16 

Index  error  = -f-  30.  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

35  08  01 

8 33  39 

36  08  38 

Determination  of  longitude , April  9,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

66  27  50 

8 03  04.5 

67  07  10 

04  40.4 

67  41  50 

06  06.7 

68  10  45 

07  18.5 

68  40  00 

08  30.0 

Index  error 


30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

8 45  57 

0 40  00.6 

119 

22  02 

A 

500 


[ H4  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM,  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  LAKE 

TULA  RES. 

Determination  of  latitude,  April  10,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

rain. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

32 

30 

7 

59 

05 

69 

31 

00 

-8 

01 

01 

69 

30 

00 

03 

26 

69 

28 

30 

04 

55 

69 

28 

50 

06 

04 

69 

26 

10 

09 

08 

69 

25 

40 

10 

39 

69 

25 

00 

13 

28 

69 

23 

50 

14 

37 

69 

23 

10 

1 

15 

49 

Index  error  = — j—  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

34  42  35 

8 50  50 

35 

40 

10 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  10, 1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

!: 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chro; 

tkometer.  j 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus 

Arcturus. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  rain. 

sec. 

Deg 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82  41 

40 

8 37 

02.0 

85 

02 

45 

8 

42 

47.0 

82  59 

30 

37 

45.0  ! 

85 

27 

00 

43 

50.5 

83  31 

50 

39 

03.0 

85 

57 

30 

45 

05.0 

83  54 

00 

40 

00.5 

86 

28 

30 

46 

21.0 

84  16 

35 

40 

55.0 

86 

48 

30 

47 

10.6 

Index  error  = -f-  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 

24  09 

0 

42 

08.9 

118  56  34 

501 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  NEAR  PASS  CREEK,  IN  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA  MOUNTAINS. 

Determination  of  latitude , April  13,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

68 

41 

20 

7 

24 

14 

68 

40 

15 

25 

40 

68 

39 

25 

27 

25 

68 

38 

00 

28 

42 

68 

38 

15 

30 

03 

68 

36 

50 

31 

42 

68 

36 

00 

33 

30 

68 

35 

00 

35 

21 

68 

34 

00 

36 

26 

68 

33 

25 

37 

41 



Index  error  = -4-  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

34  17  12 

8 15  53 

35  17  12 

Determination  of  longitude, April  13, 1S44 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

65 

57 

50 

7 

41 

21.4 

68 

19 

50 

7 47 

09.0 

66 

31 

45 

42 

44.0 

68 

45 

00 

48 

10.0 

66 

58 

00 

43 

49.7 

69 

11 

10 

49 

14.0 

67 

26 

40 

44 

59.5 

69 

34 

25 

50 

10.7 

67 

40 

00 

45 

55.7 

70 

00 

00 

51 

13.4 

Index  error  = 30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

7 1 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

8 31  20 

0 44  51.7 

i 

118  35  03 

502 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  STREAM,  EAST  OF  THE  SIERRA  NEVADA. ! 
Determination  of  latitude , April  14,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

68 

16 

30 

7 11 

03 

68 

15 

10 

12 

31 

68 

13 

50 

14 

02 

68 

13 

30 

14 

59 

68 

13 

10 

16 

07 

68 

12 

10 

17 

44 

68 

10 

50 

18 

57 

68 

10 

40 

20 

11 

68 

09 

25 

21 

49 

68 

08 

25 

23 

03 

Index  error  = — |—  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

1 

| 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec - 

34  05  00 

8 

05  24 

35 

03 

00 

Determination  of  longitude , April  14, 1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus 

• * 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

62 

16 

15 

7 

26 

59.0 

64 

42 

40 

7 

32 

53.7 

62 

54 

20 

28 

30.0 

65 

26 

30 

34 

42.0 

63 

24 

00 

29 

41.0 

65 

48 

00 

35 

33.5 

63 

48 

30 

30 

42.0 

66 

09 

45 

36 

26.0 

64 

11 

50 

31 

39.0 

66 

32 

30 

37 

22.0 

Index  error  = — f-  30  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


h. 

8 


Mean  time. 


min.  sec. 
18  52 


h. 

0 


Retard. 


Longitude. 


min.  sec. 

46  24.9 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

118  18  09 


503 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  ROCK  SPRING. 


Determination  of  latitude,  April  15, 1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

67 

30 

25 

7-12  54 

67 

30 

00 

14  26 

67 

28 

25 

16  21 

67 

27 

30 

18  07 

67 

26 

00 

20  51 

Index  error  = 20  sec. 

Lm. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

33  42  57 

8 03  15 

34  41  29 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  15,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

63 

32 

25 

7 

25 

56.5 

64 

12 

15 

27 

31.0 

65 

04 

10 

29 

36.0 

65 

50 

00 

31 

26.5 

66 

14 

20 

32 

28.0 

Index  error  = -f-  20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

J 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 

16  07 

0 

46  43.4 

118  20  00 

I 174  ] 


504 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  ROCK  SPRING. 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  16,  1S44 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

09 

40 

7 34 

27.5 

70  10 

35 

7 

36 

57.2 

69 

23 

40 

35 

01.0 

70  20 

35 

37 

23.2 

69 

36 

00 

35 

33.2 

70  31 

15 

37 

50.5 

69 

47 

50 

36 

02.3 

70  45 

10 

38 

24.6 

69 

58 

45 

36 

29.5 

1 

70  58 

05 

38 

57.4 

Index  error  = — 2 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
8 23  39 

h.  min.  sec. 
0 46  56.3 

T 


Determination  of  latitude , April  1 6, 1844 — meridian  altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec . 

130 

44 

00 

11  06 

03 

130 

47 

50 

07 

34 

130 

50 

30 

10 

03 

130 

50 

45 

11 

56 

130 

50 

45 

13 

07 

130 

50 

30 

14 

12 

130 

50 

00 

15 

21 

130 

49 

20 

16 

06 

130 

48 

45 

16 

50 

130 

47 

40 

17 

36 

130 

45 

30 

18 

53 

130 

43 

45 

20 

06 

Index  error 


2 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  central  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

65  40  58 

11  13  55 

34  41  56 

Mean  latitude  at  this  encampment  34  deg.  41  min.  42  sec. 


505 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  SPRING  HEADS  OF  A SMALL  STREAM  AMONG  THE 
FOOT  HILLS  OF  THE  MOUNTAIN. 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  IS,  1S44 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

i 

1 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

06 

40 

3 

16 

44.0 

56 

36 

25 

3 

20 

23.0 

57 

46 

55 

17 

32.4 

56 

16 

50 

21 

11.8 

57 

31 

50 

18 

09.0 

56 

04 

55 

21 

41.2 

57 

19 

00 

18 

39.4 

55 

52 

30 

22 

11.3 

57 

04 

20 

19 

J4.3 

55 

39 

50 

22 

43.0 

Index  error  = — 18  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  see. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

4 10  14 

0 

50  23.0 

117  43  21 

Determination  of  latitude , April  IS,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


i 

Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

66 

58 

50 

7 

02 

28 

66 

58 

10 

03 

59 

66 

58 

10 

05 

03 

66 

56 

45 

I 

06 

36 

Index  error  = — 18  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

33  27  22 

7 

55  00 

i CO 

-vl 

03 

506 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  MOHAHVE  RIVER,  ON  THE  SPANISH  TRAIL  FROM 
PUEBLO  HE  LOS  ANGELES  TO  SANTA  FE. 

Determination  of  longitude . April  21,  1S44 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude 

s of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

41 

55 

50 

3 

54 

47.5 

40 

40 

45 

3 

57 

51.3 

41 

37 

30 

55 

31.0 

40 

28 

15 

58 

19.8 

41 

24 

20 

56 

01.4 

40 

14 

10 

58 

53.5 

41 

12 

00 

56 

33.0 

i 39 

36 

10 

59 

37.2 

40 

59 

00 

57 

04.3 

39 

29 

20 

4 

1 

00 

42.5 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec- 

4 51  25 

0 53  50.3 

117  13  00 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  21,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

65 

23 

10 

6 

59 

49.0 

67 

27 

00 

7 

04 

49.0 

66 

00 

00 

7 

01 

15.7 

67 

49 

25 

05 

42.4 

66 

21 

25 

02 

08.0 

68 

09 

25 

06 

30.0 

66 

41 

45 

02 

57.4 

68 

28 

45 

07 

16.7 

67 

04 

50 

03 

55.0 

68 

51 

55 

08 

15.0 

Index  error  = — 15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 58  02 

0 53  45.9 

507 


[ 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  MOHAHVE  RIVER,  ON  THE  SPANISH  TRAIL  FROM 
PUEBLO  DE  LOS  ANGELES  TO  SANTA  FE. 


Determination  of  latitude , April  21,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

66 

59 

00 

7 

11 

13 

66 

58 

50 

12 

46 

66 

57 

50 

14 

43 

66 

57 

20 

16 

02 

66 

56 

00 

17 

16 

66 

55 

10 

19 

02 

66 

54 

30 

20 

32 

66 

54 

00 

22 

01 

66 

52 

45 

23 

35 

66 

52 

30 

25 

06 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

33  26  21 

8 11  59 

34  34 

11 

Determination  of  longitude , Jipril  21,  1844 — distance  from  moon's  first 

limb  to  Regulus. 


OBSERVATIONS  WITH  THE  CIRCLE. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

Circle  reading. 

h.  min.  set. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 57  15 

8 01  22 

135  34  50 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

66  48  51 

16  21  35.5 

[ 174  ] 


508 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SAME  RIVER  AS  ON  THE  21st. 
Determination  of  latitude , April  24,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes 

of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

67 

32 

45 

7 

15 

07 

67 

32 

00 

16 

40 

67 

31 

10 

18 

09 

67 

30 

25 

19 

41 

67 

30 

00 

21 

08 

67 

29 

20 

22 

12 

67 

28 

45 

23 

27 

67 

27 

55 

24 

41 

67 

27 

10 

27 

39 

67 

26 

15 

28 

46 

Index  error  = — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

33  43  15 

8 19  40 

34  56  00 

, 1 : 1 

Determination  of  longitude , April  24,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOJfD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

85 

15 

30 

7 

32 

08.0 

87 

06 

45 

7 

36 

39.0 

85 

46 

45 

33 

24.0 

I 87 

28 

10 

37 

31.3 

86 

08 

25 

34 

15.0 

87 

48 

25 

38 

19.6 

86 

27 

40 

35 

04.0 

88 

13 

50 

39 

22.5 

86 

46 

25 

35 

49.5 

88 

33 

45 

40 

12.0 

Index  error  — — 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

8 

34  15 

0 57  58-8 

116  29 

19 

509 


C 174  ] 


SCALP  CAMP,  ON  THE  SPANISH  TRAIL. 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  25, 1S44 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

! Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus, 

Arcturus 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg 

. min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

43 

.50 

7 

11 

14.5 

80 

47 

35 

7 

16 

14.7 

79 

17 

10 

12 

34.4 

81 

11 

00 

17 

13.6 

79 

41 

45 

13 

33.7 

81 

42 

15 

18 

30.0 

80 

03 

45 

14 

28  0 

82 

10 

30 

19 

40.0 

80 

24 

15 

15 

19.0 

1 

82 

30 

50 

20 

26.7 

Index  error  = — 7 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 

8 15  01 

k.  min.  sec. 

0 59  05.9 

Immersion  of  a2  Cancri. 


Observed  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

.10  57  41 

116  23  28 

[ 174  ] 


510 


SCALP  CAMP,  ON  THE  SPANISH  TRAIL. 
Determination  of  latitude , April  25,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

68 

00 

00 

7 

24 

35 

67 

59 

30 

26 

21 

67 

58 

30 

28 

02 

67 

57 

20 

29 

17 

67 

57 

10 

30 

56 

67 

56 

40 

32 

35 

67 

55 

30 

33 

51 

67 

55 

40 

35 

09 

67 

54 

50 

36 

45 

67 

54 

00 

38 

26 

Index  error  = — 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

33  56  57 

8 30  36 

35  13  08 

Determination  of  longitude,  April  25,  1S44 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

33 

00 

11 

12 

01.6 

85 

02 

35 

13 

20.0 

85 

29 

15 

14 

31.2 

85 

55 

40 

15 

42.0 

86 

54 

20 

18 

14.0 

Index  error  = — 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h. 

min.  sec. 

12  14  00 

0 

59  14.4 

511 


I 


[ 174  1 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  HERNANDEZ  SPRING. 
Determination  of  longitude , April  29,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

! Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

95 

10 

10 

7 

33 

24.5 

97 

14 

25 

7 

38 

35.7 

95 

36 

15 

34 

30.6 

97 

37 

30 

39 

33.5 

96 

05 

30 

35 

44.5 

98 

02 

00 

40 

35.2 

96 

30 

40 

36 

46.5 

98 

29 

40 

41 

46.0 

96 

55 

15 

37 

48.0 

98 

56 

30 

42 

51.6 

Index  error  = -f-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 40  12 

1 

02 

02.0 

Determination  of  latitude,  April  29,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

68 

58 

45 

7 

49 

14 

68 

59 

15 

51 

29 

68 

57 

40 

53 

20 

68 

57 

20 

54 

38 

* 

68 

56 

40 

56 

58 

Index  error  = — |—  1 0 


RELULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

34  27  38 

8 55  04 

35  51  21 

512 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  DEEP  SPRING  HOLE,  ON  A RIVER  WHICH  LOSES  ITSELF 

IN  SANDS. 

Determination  of  latitude,  May  1,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

31 

25 

6 

49 

08 

69 

30 

40 

50 

26 

69 

30 

10 

52 

17 

69 

29 

50 

53 

38 

69 

28 

15 

56 

07 

69 

27 

40 

/ 

57 

20 

69 

26 

30 

58 

55 

69 

25 

45 

7 

01 

38 

69 

25 

20 

03 

02 

69 

24 

40 

04 

16 

Index  error  = + 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

34  43  07 

8 01  58 

35 

58 

19 

Determination  of  longitude,  May  1,  1844 — altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIHST  SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus, 

Arcturus 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

89 

07 

30 

7 

07 

15.8 

91 

25 

20 

7 12 

57.0 

89 

52 

50 

09 

07.5 

91 

48 

35 

13 

54.2 

90 

15 

00 

10 

03.7 

92 

10 

30 

14 

49.5 

90 

38 

20 

11 

00.6 

92 

34 

45 

15 

51.0 

91 

00 

15 

11 

55.5 

92 

59 

20 

16 

52.0 

Index  error  = 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min%  sec. 

8 17  45 

1 05  22.5 

513 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  LAS  VEGAS,  (THE  MARSHES.) 
Determination  of  longitude , May  3,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


[Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

I Double  altitudes  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

56 

56 

45 

3 

12 

04.3 

55 

34 

00 

3 

15 

31.0 

56 

36 

10 

12 

56.2 

55 

17 

30 

16 

11.0 

56 

17 

50 

13 

41.0 

55 

04 

45 

16 

42.6 

56 

03 

00 

14 

18.5  ; 

54 

49 

40 

17 

21.0 

55 

48 

35 

14 

54.0  | 

54 

33 

10 

18 

01.0 

Index  error  = -j-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h . min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

4 22  58, 

1 

07 

48.2 

Determination  of  latitude , May  3,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

V • 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

69 

40 

00 

7 

17 

22 

r 

69 

39 

50 

18 

51 

69 

39 

55 

20 

04 

69 

38 

50 

22 

08 

69 

38 

20 

23 

22 

69 

37 

30 

24 

45 

69 

37 

25 

26 

27 

69 

37 

15 

27 

33 

69 

36 

10 

29 

19 

69 

36 

10 

30 

34 

Index  error  = 

= 10  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

34  47  45 

8 

31  50 

36  10 

20 

33 


[ 174  ] 


514 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A BRANCH  OF  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  5,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg;. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

44 

20 

6 

49 

23 

70 

43 

45 

6 

51 

10 

70 

42 

40 

6 

53 

26 

70 

41 

40 

6 

54 

55 

70 

42 

00 

6 

56 

21 

70 

40 

30 

6 

58 

06 

70 

39 

40 

7 

00 

10 

70 

39 

10 

7 

02 

43 

70 

38 

30 

7 

04 

11 

70 

38 

20 

7 

05 

15 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  =±  + 10  sec. 
RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

,Z1  •: 

Deg. 

35 

min.  sec. 
19  15 

k.  min.  sec. 
8 08  26 

Deg. 

36 

min. 

38 

sec. 

56 

Determination  of  longitude , May  5,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Virginis . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Virginis. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h . 

min. 

sec. 

71 

14 

45 

7 

13 

09.0 

71 

38 

10 

14 

49.6 

71 

59 

50 

16 

15.5 

72 

19 

20 

17 

44.0 

72 

37 

35 

19 

05.0 

Index  error  *=  — J—  10  sec. 

• J • 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

27 

07 

1 

10 

55.9 

Longitude. 


[ 174  3 


515 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 

Determination  of  longitude,  May  6,  IS44— altitudes  of  Arcturus, 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

86  06  10 

6 33  23.0 

86  41  00 

34  50.0 

87  10  00 

36  01.5 

Index  error 

= — 1 0 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 47  15 

1 12  30.5 

J - ■ — — _ 

Determination  of  latitude^  May  6,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


— i 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

41 

30 

6 

54 

30 

70 

40 

15 

56 

12 

70 

39 

45 

57 

55 

70 

40 

00 

59 

03 

70 

39 

10 

7 

00 

35 

70 

38 

40 

02 

48 

70 

37 

15 

04 

23 

70 

37 

20 

06 

24 

70 

36 

10 

08 

03 

70 

35 

55 

09 

21 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  — 4-  10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

) 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

35  18  01 

8 14  24 

36  39  33 

[ 174  ] 


516 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  7,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer.  : 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec.  i 

43 

34 

50 

5 

44 

23.2 

43 

50 

00 

45 

01.4 

44 

10 

00 

45 

50.5 

44 

24 

10 

46 

27.0 

44 

41 

45 

47 

10.0 

SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of  tlie 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

45,  00  00 

45  11  15 

45  26  15 

45  38  10 

45  49  35 


Time  of  chronometer. 


mm. 

47 

48 

49 

49 

50 


sec. 

55.4 

24.3 

02.2 

31.8 

00.0 


Index  error  = — 10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

s'/. 

6 

59  58 

1 12 

15.5 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 
Determination  of  longitude , May  8,  1844 — altitude  of  Jlrcturus. 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

103  15 

10 

1 

7 

07  02 

Index  error  = 

= -p  10  sec. 

RESULT 

OF  CALCULATION 

Mean  time.. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

3 

21  43 

1 

14 

41.3 

517 


[ *74  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 
Determination  of  latitude , May  S,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

58 

50 

70 

58 

40 

70 

58 

50 

70 

57 

00 

70 

58 

10 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

7 

11 

36 

13 

08 

14 

37 

15 

58 

17 

11 

Index  error  = 4-  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Peg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

35  27  52 

8 

29  09 

36 

53  03 

Determination  of  longitude , May  9,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Peg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

54 

44 

10 

6 

08 

27.4 

55 

51 

10 

6 

11 

12.8 

54 

59 

20 

09 

04.0 

56 

02 

30 

11 

42.0 

55 

13 

10 

09 

37.8 

56 

11 

55 

12 

04.4 

55 

27 

35 

10 

17.0 

56 

21 

20 

12 

29.4 

55 

39 

40 

1 

10 

47.0 

56 

29 

40 

12 

51.3 

Index  error  = — 2 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

Ji.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

7 25  21 

1 

14 

29.3 

[ i'4  ] 


518 


THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 
Determination  of  latitude,  May  9,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

70  55  10 

7 25  42 

70  55  15 

26  56 

70  55  50 

28  12 

70  55  00 

29  42 

70  54  30 

30  54 

70  54  30 

31  58 

70  54  30 

33  17 

70  54  10 

34  37 

70  53  10 

36  11 

70  53  20 

37  20 

Index  error  = — 2 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

35  25  53 

8 45  59 

36  53 

40 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SANTA  CLARA  FORK  OF  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 
Determination  of  latitude , May  10,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  ( Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

71 

29 

45 

7 

16 

36 

71 

29 

20 

17 

38 

71 

29 

40 

19 

49 

71 

29 

30 

20 

56 

71 

28 

50 

23 

06 

71 

28 

30 

24 

39 

71 

27 

45 

25 

49 

71 

27 

30 

27 

08 

71 

27 

30 

28 

25 

71 

26 

50 

30 

44 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

519 


[ ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  SANTA  CLARA  FORK  OF  THE  RIO  VIRGEN. 


Determination  of  longitude,  May  11,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


De^. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

57 

10 

15 

2 

08 

24.5 

56 

27 

40 

10 

12.2 

56 

06 

55 

11 

02.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  VEGAS  DE  SANTA  CLARA. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  12,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


EIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOXD  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

55 

20 

45 

3 

13 

11.0 

54 

09 

00 

3 

16 

11.3 

55 

05 

10 

13 

50.2 

53 

58 

30 

16 

39.3 

54 

51 

25 

14 

24.8 

53 

49 

10 

17 

02.2 

54 

38 

20 

14 

57.4 

53 

39 

15 

17 

27.5 

54 

24 

50 

15 

29.4 

53 

27 

40 

17 

57.0 

Index  error  = -j-  15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 32  22 

1 16  38.0 

[ 1T4  ] 


520 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  VEGAS  DE  SANTA  CLARA. 
Determination  of  latitude,  May  12, 1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

72 

05 

30 

7 

10 

13 

72 

05 

00 

11 

42 

72 

05 

20 

13 

05 

72 

04 

00 

14 

26 

72 

04 

30 

15 

40 

72 

03 

30 

18 

09 

72 

03 

10 

19 

47 

72 

02 

45 

20 

57 

72 

02 

35 

22 

00 

72 

02 

30 

23 

10 

Index  error  = -J-  15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

36  00  45 

8 

33  33 

37  28 

28 

Determination  of  longitude,  May  14,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h . 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

47 

27  30 

5 

43 

32.0 

48 

33 

10 

5 46 

17.4 

47 

42  30 

44 

10.5 

48 

45 

00 

46 

49.0 

47 

55  45 

44 

43.2 

48 

56 

15 

47 

16.7 

48 

08  00 

45 

13.7 

49 

07 

00 

47 

43.6 

48 

19  40 

1 

45 

44.5 

49 

19 

20 

48 

14.8 

Index  error  = + 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

521 


[ ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A FINE  ROLLING  PRAIRIE,  AT  THE  SPRING-HEAD  OF 
A TRIBUTARY  TO  SEVIER  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude.  May  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

35 

45 

7 

43 

07 

73 

36 

00 

44 

26 

73 

35 

50 

46 

44 

73 

36 

20 

48 

03 

73 

36 

50 

51 

11 

73 

36 

30 

52 

55 

73 

36 

50 

55 

09 

73 

36 

35 

57 

45 

73 

36 

40 

59 

27 

73 

37 

10 

8 

02 

53 

Index  error  = + 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

36  47  00 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 15  54 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
38  18  20 

Determination  of  longitude,  May  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrae. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Lyras. 

a 

Lyras. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

62 

36 

50 

8 

06 

59.0 

64 

33 

50 

8 

12 

31.0 

63 

00 

20 

08 

05.0 

64 

53 

30 

13 

27.0 

63 

23 

20 

09 

09.6 

65 

12 

50 

14 

22.0 

63 

48 

10 

10 

21.0 

65 

33 

10 

15 

17.0 

64 

11 

35 

11 

27.5 

65 

51 

50 

16 

11.0 

Thermometer  40°. 


Index  error  = — j—  1 0 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 34  3 

1 22  44.3 

[ 174  ] 


522 


I 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SEVIER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  23,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

45 

10 

7 

46 

13 

75 

45 

20 

48 

20 

75 

45 

20 

50 

07 

75 

44 

50 

51 

32 

75 

44 

20 

54 

13 

Index  error  = + 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  51  18 

h.  min.  sec. 
9 15  30 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
39  22  19 

Determination  of  longitude , May  23,  1844 — altitudes  of  a,  Lyrx. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 


Deg.  min . sec. 

67  15  25 

67  37  20 

67  56  20 


Time  of  chronometer. 


h.  min.  sec. 

7 58  17.0 

59  17.5 

8 00  11.0 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyra. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

68  16  10 

68  36  15 

68  55  10 


Index  error  = 7 sec. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


h.  min.  sec. 
8 01  08.5 

02  05.0 

02  58.4 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 26  58 

1 26  18.3 

523 


C »74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  FIRST  STREAM  OF  UTAH  LAKE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  May  24, 1S44 — Spica  Virginis  in  the  me 

ridian . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Spica  Virginis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

mm. 

sec. 

79 

34 

10 

7 

20 

38 

79 

37 

00 

21 

51 

79 

39 

10 

22 

54 

79 

42 

05 

24 

14 

79 

44 

10 

25 

23 

79 

45 

50 

26 

26 

79 

47 

15 

27 

29 

79 

49 

30 

29 

12 

79 

50 

50 

30 

22 

79 

52 

30 

32 

07 

79 

53 

30 

33 

25 

79 

54 

15 

34 

36 

79 

54 

30 

35 

49 

79 

54 

25 

36 

59 

79 

55 

10 

38 

12 

79 

55 

05 

39 

41 

79 

54 

40 

40 

54 

79 

54 

10 

42 

01 

79 

53 

15 

43  . 

15 

79 

52 

05 

44 

29 

79 

51 

00 

46 

01 

Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude . 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

39  56  21 

7 38 

*7  | 

39  42  37 

524 


[174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  FIRST  STREAM  OF  UTAH  LAKE. 
Determination  of  latitude , May  24,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

24 

40 

7 

50 

41 

76 

25 

00 

52 

07 

76 

24 

25 

53 

51 

76 

25 

00 

54 

59 

76 

25 

15 

57 

Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  11  14 

9 20  54 

39  41  52 

Mean  latitude  39  deg.  42  min.  15  sec. 


Determination  of  longitude,  May  24,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrse. 

a Lyrse. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

70  08  25 

8 00  54.4 

71  10  00 

8 03  48.5 

70  31  10 

01  59.0 

71  30  35 

04  47.0 

70  49  50 

02  50.7 

71  49  45 

05  41.2 

) 

Thermometer  40°. 


Index  error  = + 5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

9 30  31 

A.  min.  sec. 

1 27  10.0 

• 

525 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIGHT-HAND  BRANCH  OF  SPANISH  FORK. 
Determination  of  longitude.  May  27,  1S44 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrse. 

1 

a 

Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

57 

04 

50 

7 

07 

47.5 

58 

39 

45 

7 

12 

26.5 

57 

26 

50 

08 

50.0 

59 

00 

00 

13 

27.4 

57 

47 

20 

09 

51.0 

59 

16 

40 

14 

14.6 

58 

03 

50 

10 

40.0 

59 

32 

00 

15 

00.0 

58 

19 

45 

11 

27.4 

t 

59 

50 

15 

15 

55.0 

Index  error  = + 5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

41  40 

1 

29 

41.6 

Determination  of  latitude , May  27, 1S44 — Spica  Virginis  in  themeridian . 


observations. 


Double  altitudes  of  Spica  Virginis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  10  10 

7 20  34 

79  10  10 

22  05 

79  10  15 

23  20 

79  10  35 

24  49 

79  09  50 

26  48 

79  09  25 

28  04 

Index  error  = 

= 4-5  se\ 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of 

transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

39  34  06 

7 24 

06 

40 

04  52 

526 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A RIGHT-HAND  BRANCH  OF  SPANISH  FORK, 

Determination  of  latitude,  May  27,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

77  09  15 

7 35  38 

77  08  40 

36  58 

77  08  50 

38  06 

77  09  10 

39  20 

77  09  20 

40  25 

Thermometer  40°. 
Index  error  = — 5 i 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

l ~ 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  33  21 

1 

9 07  47 

40  04  03 

Mean  latitude  40  deg.  4 min.  27  sec. 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  HEAD  OF  SPANISH  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  2S,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  ; Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

50 

10 

7 

08 

30 

76 

50 

00 

09 

40 

76 

50 

10 

10 

51 

76 

49 

50 

12 

27 

76 

50 

00 

13 

45 

76 

50 

00 

15 

10 

76 

49 

50 

17 

26 

76 

50 

20 

19 

01 

76 

50 

20 

20 

10 

76 

50 

10 

21 

04 

Index  error  = -f-  ft  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

38  23  52 

1 8 

45  32 

39  55 

11 

527 


[ 174  3 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  TKE  HEAD  OF  SPANISH  FORK. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  28,  1844 — altitude s of  <*  Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer,  i 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrae. 

a Lyrae. 

Beg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

64  24  50 

7 24  42.4 

| 65  .39  30 

7 28  16.0 

64  59  30 

26  19.4 

j 65  59  20 

29  13.0 

65  20  00 

27  18.5 

66  18  45 

30  10.0 

Thermometer  42°. 


Index  error  = -f-  8 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 58  24 

1 30  44.4 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  HEAD  OF  UINTAH  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  29,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

77 

00 

10 

7 09 

56 

77 

00 

00 

12 

17 

77 

00 

10 

14 

03 

77 

00 

00 

15 

16 

77 

00 

35 

17 

21 

77 

00 

00 

18 

51 

77 

00 

30 

20 

17 

77 

00 

20 

22 

09 

77 

00 

50 

23 

40 

77 

00 

35 

26 

15 

Thermometer  46°. 

Index  error  — + 5 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

/;.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

38  28  59 

i 

00 

tn 

O 

K) 

*f* 

4u 

00 

07 

[ 174  ] 


528 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  HEAD  OF  UINTAH  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , May  29,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrx . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer.  | 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a Lyrae. 

a Lyrae. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

57  32  15 

6 58  44.0 

59  04  15 

7 03  11.6 

57  56  30 

59  54.5 

59  44  10 

05  10.0 

58  43  10 

7 02  12.0 

60  05  15 

06  12.0 

Index  error  = -f-  5 sec . 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

8 35  02 

1 

32  27.6 

- 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  DUCHESNE  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude,  May  30,  1844 — altitudes  of  Spica  Virginia, 

near  the  meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Spica  Virginis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

78  36  30 

7 16  44 

78  34  45 

18  06 

Index  error  = -|-  5 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Apparent  time  of  transit. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg . min.  sec. 

39  20  11 

7 08  52 

40  18  47 

529 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  DUCHESNE  FORK. 

Determination  of  longit  ude,.  May  30,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a 

Lyrae. 

a Lyrae. 

Deg. 

min.  see. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

67 

33  45 

7 

22  32.0 

69  37  50 

7 28 

27.0 

68 

03  10 

23  55.5 

! 70  00  00 

29 

31.0 

68 

35  35 

25  28.6 

70  24  50 

30 

42.0 

68 

55  10 

26  25.0 

70  42  00 

31 

31.2 

69 

14  20 

27  19.4 

70  58  40 

32 

19.3 

Index  error 

= 4-5  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

1 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

i 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 00  57 

1 33  07.9 

Immersion  of  6 Scorpii. 

Observed  time. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min 

. sec. 

9 00 

89 

112  18 

30 

• <* 


[ 174  ] 


530 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  DUCHESNE  FORK 
Determination  of  latitude , May  30,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris, 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

41 

00 

7 

36 

32 

77 

40 

50 

; * 

37 

58 

77 

40 

25 

39 

27 

77 

41 

15 

41 

20 

77 

40 

50 

42 

39 

77 

41 

30 

44 

05 

77 

41 

50 

45 

30 

77 

42 

15 

46 

37 

77 

41 

40 

47 

48 

77 

42 

20 

49 

01 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Thermometer  48°. 
Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min,,  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  49  32 

9 16  14 

40  18  58 

Mean  latitude  40  deg.  18  min.  52  sec. 


AT  UINTAH  FORT. 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  3,  1S44 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

11 

1 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

a 

altitudes  of 
Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

65  58 

30 

6 

57 

55.0 

67 

31 

40 

7 02 

26.0 

36  20 

30 

59 

00.0 

67 

49 

00 

03 

14.0 

66  41 

10 

59 

59.6 

68 

07 

25 

04 

08.2 

67  00 

20 

7 

00 

54.5 

68 

24 

15 

04 

56.4 

67  15 

10 

01 

37.6 

68 

52 

20 

06 

18.9 

Index  error  ==  6 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 39  08 

1 37  05.  § 

531 


[ 174  ] 


AT  UINTAH  FORT 

Determination  of  latitude , June  3,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS, 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg;,  min.  sec. 

h . min  sec. 

77  55  20 

7 09  58 

77  55  30 

il  17 

77  55  45 

12  27 

77  55  40 

13  43 

77  55  45 

14  46 

77  55  20 

15  49 

77  56  20 

16  53 

77  55  50 

17  57 

77  56  10 

18  54 

77  56  00 

19  47 

Thermometer  58°. 

Index  error  = -j-  6 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

y 

Mean  time.  # 

Latitude. 

Dee',  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  56  44 

8 52  14 

40  27  45 

C 174  ] 


532 


AT  UINTAH  FORT. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  4,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

/ 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

52 

18 

55 

5 

25 

39.0 

53 

30 

00 

5 

28 

48.5 

52 

34 

35  | 

26 

20.3 

53 

46 

00 

29 

30.4 

52 

46 

00 

26 

53.5 

53 

57 

25 

30 

01.0 

52 

59 

35  | 

27 

27.0 

54 

15 

50 

30 

48.5 

53 

16 

46  i 

28 

116 

II 

54 

29 

30 

31 

25.3 

Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

n.  min.  sec. 

7 05  43 

1 37  11.6 

Immersion  of  Jupiter's  first  satellite . 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec . 

0 

57  05.5  a.  m. 

2 

34 

14.2  a.  m. 

109  56 

42 

533 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  ASHLEY'S  FORKo 

Determination  of  longitude , June  5, 1844 — altitudes  of  » Lyrx . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time 

[of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

67 

09 

30 

6 

51 

19.0 

69  49 

30 

6 

58 

59.7 

67 

31 

20 

52 

21.6 

70  09 

30 

59 

58.2 

67 

49 

40 

53 

15.7 

70  27 

10 

7 

00 

48.4 

68 

10 

35 

54 

15.2 

70  46 

45 

01 

44.7 

68 

29 

15 

55 

09.0 

71  07 

05 

02 

42.0 

Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 36  17 

1 39  14.0 

Determination  of  latitude , June  5,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

58 

40 

7 

07 

00 

77 

58 

50 

08 

18 

77 

58 

30  * 

09 

35 

77 

59 

30 

11 

26 

77 

59 

50 

13 

10 

78 

00 

00 

14 

34 

78 

00 

15 

16 

03 

78 

00 

15 

17 

08 

78 

00 

30 

18 

59 

78 

00 

10 

19 

56 

Thermometer  60°. 
Index  error  = -f-  5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

38  58  42 

8 52  57 

40  28 

07 

534 


E 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  ASHLEY’S  FORK. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  6,  1844 — altitudes  of  Jlrcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

51  31  50 

0 20  37.0  a.  m. 

51  09  50 

21  34.5 

50  50  40 

22  25.0 

50  34  00 

23  08.5 

50  15  15 

23  57.7 

Thermometer  46°. 


Index  error  ==  -{-  8 sec. 
RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

2 

01 

43  a.  m. 

1 0 39 

22.4 

Immersion  of  Jupiter’s  second  satellite . 


Observed  time. 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

0 38  39  a.  m. 

2 18  02  a.  m. 

109  27 

07 

535 


[ ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BROWN’S  HOLE,  ON  GREEN  RIVER, 
Determination  of  longitude , June  7,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrm „ 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOUD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyras. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer.. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

70 

56 

20 

6 

50 

21.0 

76 

18 

15 

7 

05 

42.5 

71 

17 

20 

51 

23.0 

76 

41 

35 

06 

46.5 

71 

35 

30 

52 

14.0 

76 

59 

00 

07 

36.® 

71 

55 

10 

53 

10.0 

77 

16 

40 

08 

25.® 

72 

17 

40 

54 

14.0 

77 

37 

00 

09 

27J& 

Index  error  = + 8 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 42  27 

1 42  31.1 

/ 


Determination  of  latitude , Jane  7,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

78  38  50 

7 13  57 

78  38  45 

15  19 

78  38  30 

17  05 

78  39  15 

18  26 

78  39  10 

19  59 

78  40  25 

21  23 

78  40  05 

22  36 

Thermometer  61°. 

Index  error  = -|-  8 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  18  31 

9 00  56 

40  46  27 

536 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BROWN’S  HOLE,  ON  GREEN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  S,  1844 — altitudes  of  the  sun* 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg, 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

59 

50 

25 

5 

39 

34.0 

61 

01 

35 

5 

42 

43.4 

60 

06 

00 

40 

16.5 

61 

18 

55 

43 

28.3 

60 

19 

45 

40 

52.3 

61 

33 

00 

44 

05.6 

60 

33 

20 

41 

27.0 

61 

46 

10 

44 

41.2 

60 

48 

40 

42 

07.3 

61 

56 

55 

45 

09.4 

Thermometer  89°. 


Index  error  = -|-  8 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 24  58 

1 

1 42  32.3 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  ELK  HEAD  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , June  10,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Lyrse. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

1 Double  altitudes  of 
a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

26 

15 

6 

46 

44.0 

76 

56 

50 

6 

50 

59.0 

75 

44 

20 

47 

33.3 

77 

14 

00 

51 

48  0 

76 

06 

10 

48 

35  0 

77 

35 

00 

52 

48.4 

76 

21 

50 

49 

20.2 

77 

52 

15 

53 

36  4 

76 

37 

40 

50 

05.0 

78 

09 

50 

54 

26.0 

Index  error  = -f-  4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

37  18 

1 

46 

49  6 

(£/*  Correct  this  longitude  on  map. 


53 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  ELK  HEAD  RIVER. 

3th  r?n  in  at  to  n of  latitude , June  10,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

02 

30 

6 

57 

57 

79 

02 

45 

59 

24 

79 

03 

40 

7 

00 

29 

79 

03 

00 

01 

41 

79 

04 

10 

03 

46 

79 

04 

20 

04 

58 

79 

04 

30 

06 

34 

79 

04 

50 

08 

05 

79 

05 

35 

09 

18 

79 

05 

30 

10 

35 

Thermometer  57°. 
Index  error  = -4-  4 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

9kg\  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

39  30  53 

8 50  59 

40 

58 

37 

(Xjr’Correct  this  latitude  on  map. 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  ELK  HEAD  RIVER. 

Iteter  ruination  of  latitude , June  11,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

14 

40 

7 

19 

47 

79 

15 

40 

22 

14 

79 

16 

25 

24 

01 

79 

16 

40 

26 

19 

79 

17 

30 

28 

02 

79 

18 

00 

29 

07 

Index  error  = -J-  6 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Mean  time. 


Beg.  min.  sec. 

39  37  07 


mm. 

14 


sec. 

42 


Latitude. 


Deg. 

41 


min. 

01 


sec. 

11 


[ 174  ] 


538 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  ELK  HEAD  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , June  11,  1844 — altitudes  of  a CygnL 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

57 

21 

40 

7 

32 

31.0 

57 

51 

40 

34 

08.0 

58 

13 

00 

35 

17.5 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Bad  observations. 
Thermometer  53°. 
Index  error  = 6 s 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

9 23  46 

1 49  47. 1 

ENCAMPMENT  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE, 
AT  THE  FOOT  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  13,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  56  40 

7 31  46 

79  57  40 

33  02 

79  58  10 

34  16 

79  59  00 

36  08 

79  59  15 

37  25 

79  59  40 

38  31 

80  00  35 

40  06 

80  00  15 

41  12 

80  01  15 

42  18 

80  01  20 

43  25 

Index  error  = + 10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  zee. 

k.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  58  36 

9 29  10 

41  18  48 

539  [ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  IN  THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE,  AT 
THE  FOOT  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  13,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Jlquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a 

Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

43  33 

50 

7 

47 

56.0 

44  09 

40 

49 

33.6 

44  37 

40 

50 

49.5 

Index  error  = — f—  10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 40  47 

1 51  21.0 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  13,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

68 

02 

40 

7 

55 

22.0 

68 

26 

00 

56 

33.0 

68 

47 

40 

57 

40.7 

Thermometer  54°. 

Index  error  = -f-  10  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sfic. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 47  53 

1 51  21.1 

* 

540 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  IN  THE  SAME  VALLEY  AS  ON  THE  13th,  BUT  HIGHER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  14,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

36 

25 

7 

28 

28 

79 

37 

25 

29 

23 

79 

38 

00 

30 

21 

79 

37 

30 

31 

26 

79 

28 

20 

32 

21 

79 

39 

30 

33 

16 

Index  error  = 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

39  47  49 

9 23  46 

41 

08 

16 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  14,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

63  30  50 

7 36  05.0 

63  51  30 

37  10.0 

63  08  40 

38  07.0 

63  26  50 

39  03.0 

63  43  30 

39  56.0 

65  01  00 

40  51.0 

Thermometer  56°. 

Index  error  = 7 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

9 31  26 

1 52 

54.1 

541 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  NEW  PARK. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  15,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

79  03  10 

7 14  37 

79  03  30 

16  16 

79  04  00 

17  34 

79  03  50 

18  42 

79  05  00 

20  20 

79  05  30 

21  35 

79  05  45 

23  00 

79  06  00 

24  05 

79  06  40 

25  18 

79  07  25 

26  37 

Index  error  • 

= 4-7  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

39  31  25 

9 15  18 

40  52 

44 

Determination  of  longitude , June  15,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

63  08  50 

7 30  25.0 

63  32  45 

31  42.0 

63  50  00 

32  36.0 

- 64  05  10 

33  24.2 

64  21  30 

34  15.0 

Thermometer  44°. 

Index  error  = 7 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 26  51 

1 

54 

22.6 

[ 174  ] 


542 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  AT  NEW  PARK 
Determination  of  latitude , June  16,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min • 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

30 

00 

7 

27 

24 

78 

30 

10 

28 

28 

78 

30 

50 

29 

51 

78 

31 

30 

30 

53 

78 

31 

30 

31 

55 

78 

32 

30 

33 

00 

78 

33 

10 

33 

58 

78 

33 

30 

34 

51 

78 

33 

30 

36 

04 

78 

34 

20 

; 

37 

35 

Time  of  chronometer  . 


Index  error  = -|-  10 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

39  14  56 

9 26  19 

40  33 

22 

Determination  of  longitude , June  16,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

69  34  40 

7 48  20.0 

69  53  25 

49  17.5 

70  16  25 

50  29.3 

70  34  30 

51  24.6 

70  57  00 

52  35.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

9 44  19 

1 53  54.1 

5i3 


[ 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  AT  NEW  PARK 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  16,  1844 — altitude  of  a Lyrse. 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  a Lyrae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec.  • 

h.  min.  sec . 

111  10  10 

7 55  11.5 

Thermometer  38°. 

Index  error  = 5 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 49  07 

1 53  55.2 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  OLD  PARK,  AT  THE  FORK  OF  GRAND  RIVER. 


Determination  of  latitude,  June  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

77 

26 

15 

77 

27 

00 

77 

27 

00 

77 

28 

00 

77 

28 

40 

77 

29 

20 

77 

29 

10 

77 

30 

25 

77 

30 

20 

77 

31 

20 

Time  of  chronometer. 


min. 

sec. 

33 

28 

34 

50 

35 

54 

36 

54 

38 

28 

39 

38 

40 

38 

41 

47 

43 

06 

44 

14 

Index  error  = 5 sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

38  43  13 

9 

33  51 

39  57 

26 

544 


[ 1^4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  OLD  PARK,  AT  THE"FORK  OF/GRAND  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  * Jlquibz. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIB  ST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of  ' 

Time  of  chronaoMfinE. 

a 

Aquilae. 

a 

Aquilae 

, 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

•*x. 

54 

07 

20 

7 

47 

38.5 

56 

11 

35 

7 

53 

54 

36 

30 

48 

55.6 

56 

38 

45 

54 

22 .6 

55 

00 

00 

49 

58.5 

57 

00 

20 

55 

mo 

55 

27 

50 

51 

11.7 

57 

37 

50 

57 

•w 

55 

48 

50 

52 

09.0 

57 

57 

30 

57 

Thermometer  48°. 


Index  error  = 5 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Meant  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

A.  ram.  sec. 

h. 

ram.  sec. 

9 47  45 

1 

■ 

54  58.8 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  ENTRANCE  OF  BAYOU  SALADE,  HEAD  OF  Ni 
TAINE-QUI-BOUIT  ? SOUTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  ? 

Determination  of  latitude , June  22,  1844 — altitudes  of  Pola&bu 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometei. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

76  15  20 

7 25  09 

76  15  50 

26  39 

76  16  30 

27  48 

76  16  45 

28  51 

76  16  40 

29  58 

76  17  25 

31  03 

76  18  10 

32  05 

76  18  50 

33  12 

76  19  40 

34  01 

76  19  50 

34  47 

— — — 4*. 

Index  error  = 4-  10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

— — — 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sea. 

38  07  36 

9 27  21 

39  20  m 

— -■ 

515 


C ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  ENTRANCE  OF  BAYOU  SALADE,  HEAD  OF  FON- 
TAINE QUI-BO HIT  ? SOUTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  ? 

Determination  of  longit  ude,  June  22,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Jlquilae. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIKST  SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

a A quite. 

a Aquite. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  ruin.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

55  30  30 

7 37  00.5 

57  11  35 

7 41  26.3 

55  55  40 

38  05.6 

57  31  35 

42  20.0 

56  15  00 

38  58.0 

57  51  10 

43  13.2 

56  33  40 

39  46.7 

58  10  00 

44  03.0 

56  52  00 

40  35.5 

58  36  30 

•45  12.4 

Thermometer  38°. 
Index  error  = LO  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 37  53 

1 

h . min. 
1 56 

sec. 

48.7. 

* 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  ARKANSAS. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  26,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

40 

15 

6 

37 

29 

74 

41 

10 

39 

42 

74 

42 

40 

41 

03 

74 

43 

20 

42 

24 

74 

43 

30 

43 

16 

74 

44 

00 

44 

20 

74 

44 

10 

45 

29 

74 

44 

45 

46 

56 

74 

45 

20 

47 

58 

74 

45 

50 

49 

07 

Index  error  — -f-  7 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  20  34 

9 45  08 

38  39  22 

35 

[ 174  ] 546 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A SMALL  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  ARKANSAS. 
Determination  oj longitude,  June  26,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Cygni. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Cygni.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h • 

min. 

■sec. 

66 

13 

45 

G 

57 

33.5 

66 

59 

00 

59 

51.6 

67 

18 

20 

7 

00 

51.0 

67 

38 

50 

01 

53.4 

Thermometer  38°. 

Index  error  =»  7 sec. 

RESULT  OK  CALCULATION 

* 

Mean  time. 

1 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min  ■ sec. 

h.  min.  sec.. 

9 01  *24 

2 01  21.6 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A LARGER  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  ARKANSAS. 


Determination  of  latitude,  June  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

28 

10 

74 

-29 

10 

74 

29 

10 

74 

29 

20 

74 

30 

35 

74 

31 

40 

74 

32 

15 

74 

32 

50 

74 

34 

00 

74 

34 

45 

Index  error 


Time  of  chronometer. 


min. 

sec. 

08 

48 

10 

*26  ’ 

11 

32 

13 

00 

14 

23 

16 

23 

17 

38  _ 

18 

51 

20 

24 

21 

33 

-f-  8 sec. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  14  24 


RESULT 

OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 

18  05 

38  23  48 

547 


[ W4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  A LARGER  AFFLUENT  TO  THE  ARKANSAS. 
Determination  of  longitude , June  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Aquilse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
a Aqnilas. 

I Time  of  chronometer.  ! 

Double  altitudes  of  j 
a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

62  28  30 

7 24  39.5 

64  49  10 

7 30  50.0 

63  01  20 

26  04.3 

65  28  25 

32  36.5 

63  22  40 

27  01.0 

66  00  10 

33  58.0 

63  55  30 

64  23  15  ! 

28  26.6 
29  41.4 

1 1 

66  23  35 

66  53  00 

• 

35  01.0 

36  21.8 

Thermometer  56°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

k.  min.  sec. 

9 33  15 

2 02  46.9 

, ; i 

• 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  ARKANSAS  AND  FONTAINE-QUI- 

BOUIT  RIVERS. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  29,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS.  ^ 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

09 

00 

6 

59 

05 

74 

09 

15 

60 

20 

74 

10 

35 

61 

23 

74 

10 

20 

62 

30 

74 

11 

40 

63 

51 

74 

11 

50 

64 

55 

74 

13 

00 

66 

00 

74 

12 

50 

67 

00 

74 

13 

50 

68 

06 

74 

14 

00 

69 

22 

Index  error  = -f-  10  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

- 

Latitude. 

> 

Deg.  min.  sec, 

37  C4  37 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 08  49 

Deg. 

38 

min. 

15 

sec. 

23 

548 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  ARKANSAS  AND  FONTAINE-QUI- 

BOUIT  RIVERS. 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  29,  1844 — altitudes  of  Jlltair 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FTRRT  SETIIES. 

SECOND 

SERIE9. 

✓ 

Double  a!titudes  of 
Altair. 

i 

Time  of  chronometer.  | 

Double  altitudes  of 
Altair. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec . 

71 

38 

50 

\ 7 43 

14.0 

74 

12 

30 

7 

50 

08.0 

72 

05 

10 

44 

22.7 

74 

32  * 

45 

- 

51 

03.0 

72 

26 

30 

45 

21.0 

74 

52 

10 

51 

56.6 

72 

52 

30 

46 

29.5 

75 

13 

10 

52 

53.2 

73 

16 

00 

47 

34  5 

75 

37 

45 

54 

01.0 

Index  error  = — J—  10  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time 


h. 

v<  in. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

9 

53 

16 

2 

04  33.7 

Longitude. 


ENCAMPMENT  NEAR  BENT’S  FORT,  ON  THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude,  July  2,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

58 

40 

7 

06 

38 

73 

59 

10 

08 

OS 

73 

61 

30 

10 

54 

73 

62 

10 

12 

05 

73 

62 

50 

13 

03 

73 

63 

00 

13 

57 

73 

64 

10 

15 

05 

73 

64 

30 

16 

11 

73 

65 

15 

17 

20 

73 

65 

30 

18 

25 

Index  error  = -f-  7 sec. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  00  07 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min . sec. 

9 28  28 


Latitude. 


Deg.  min. 
38  02 


sec. 

08 


5 4 9 


[ *74  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  NEAR  BENT'S  FORT,  ON  THE  ARKANSAS  RIVER. 

Defer  min  fit  ion  of  longitude , duly  2,  1S44 — altitudes  of  Jilt  air. 


OBSERVATION?. 


V 

FTRST 

seuies. 

SECOND 

SERTE3. 

Double  altitudes  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 

| Time  of  chronometer. 

Altair. 

Altair. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

72 

12 

20 

7 

21 

47.0 

74 

11 

10 

7 27 

07.4 

72 

30 

30 

22 

35  0 

74 

35 

20 

28 

13.0 

72 

50 

00 

23 

27.7 

74 

57 

10 

29 

10.0 

73 

12 

30 

24 

27.5 

75 

20 

20 

30 

13.5 

73 

41 

10 

i 

25 

45.0 

lb 

37 

40 

31 

04.5 

Index  error  — 7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


Retard. 


Longitude. 


h.  min.  sec. 
9 41  40 


h.  jnin.  sec. 

2 15  17.2 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , July  9,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

75 

39 

10 

3 

58 

57 

75 

58 

50 

4 

14 

10 

Time  of  chronometer. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

j 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  53  15 

A.  min.  sec. 
9 15  03 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
38  51  15 

i 

[ 1-4  ] 


550 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  9,  1844 — altitudes  of  a.  Aquilx . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilffi. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

72 

36 

45 

4 

03 

43.0 

73 

39 

50 

06 

36.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


- 

Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 
9 13  40 

h. 

5 

min. 

08 

sec. 

30.3 

4 

SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , July  10,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris , 

OBSERVATIONS.  v 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

52 

00 

4 

00 

55 

75 

55 

00 

05 

51 

75 

54 

50 

06 

59 

75 

56 

10 

07 

58 

75 

57 

00 

09 

11 

75 

58 

00 

10 

15 

75 

58 

00 

11 

U 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Time  of  chronometer. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec . 
37  56  36 


Deg.  min . sec . 
38  52  22 


551 


[ 174  ] 


SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  10,  1814 — altitudes  of  a *dquilas. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes 

of  Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

79 

25 

20 

4 16 

41 

79 

45 

20 

17  ' 

39 

80 

16 

45 

v 19 

06 

80 

38 

40 

20 

09 

81 

02 

40 

21 

17 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 29  34 

5 10  35.8 

THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  13,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

h.  min.  sec. 

3 50  20 

52  00 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

- 

Latitude. 

Deg.-  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

37  50  05 

9 06  07 

38 

45 

57 

Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

42 

30 

75 

42 

50 

[ 174  ] 


552 


THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  13,  1844 — altitude  of  a Aquilae . 

OBSERVATION. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

77  51  20 

3 55  51.5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 ltf  50 

h.  min.  sec. 

5 14  58.3 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER,  BELOW  THE  PAWNEE  VILLAGE. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  17,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

13 

10 

75 

33 

15 

75 

5 J 

45 

76 

13 

20 

76 

33 

10 

76 

49 

40 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

3 

26 

52.0 

/ 

27 

46.0 

28 

37.0 

29 

37.0 

30 

32.0 

31 

18.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

-•  - - 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

8 49  55 

5 20  48.4 

1 

’ . y 

553 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT jON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER,  BELOW  THE  PAWNEE  VILLAGE. 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  17, 184^ — altitudes  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

^ 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

39 

00 

3 

34 

07 

75 

40 

15 

35 

26 

75 

40 

10 

36 

30 

75 

41 

30 

38 

01 

75 

42 

00 

39 

17 

75 

42 

40 

40 

23 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  49  13 

8 58  04 

38  42  43 

1 

FIFTH  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude,  July  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Jlquilse . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

73 

Iff 

35 

73 

42 

45 

74 

04 

10 

74 

24 

00 

74 

45 

10 

75 

07 

30 

A. 

min . 

sec. 

3 

09 

43  6 

10 

54.0 

11 

52.0 

12 

48.0 

13 

45.5 

14 

48.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

[9  37  04 

h. 

5 

min . sec. 
21  45.5 

Immersion  of  Jupiter’s  first  satellite. 


Observed  time. 

! 

Mean  time. 

Longitude. 

— - 

A.  min.  sec. 

■ h.  min.  sec. 

- 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  15  36 

15  40  29 

1 ! 

98  17  31 

[ 174  ] 


554 


FIFTH  ENCAMPMENT  ON  SMOKY  HILL  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude,  July  19,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

37 

40 

3 

18 

00 

75 

38 

20 

19 

16 

75 

39 

30 

20 

26 

75 

40 

00 

21 

38 

75 

41 

10 

23 

04 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION, 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

| 

Latitude. 

* 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  48  25 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 45  13 

i 

Deg.  min. 
38  43 

sec. 

32 

ENCAMPMENT  THREE  MILES  SOUTH  OF  SMOKY  HILL  FORK. 
Determination  of  longitude,  July  21,  1S44 — altitudes  of  a Aquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  a Aquilse. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

45 

10 

3 

13 

38.0 

79 

13 

40 

14 

58.0 

79 

36 

45 

16 

02.5 

Time  of  chronometer . 


- 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec.  f 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 42  31 

5 

27 

38.3 

555 


[ ] 

ENCAMPMENT  THREE  MILES  SOUTH  OF  SMOKY  HILL  FORK. 
Determination  of  latitude , July  21,  i S4T — altitudes  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

75 

14 

45 

3 19 

04 

75 

16  ' 

50 

20 

51 

75 

18 

10 

22 

26 

75 

18 

10 

24 

07 

75 

20 

40 

26 

01 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  win.  sec. 
37  37  35 


Mean  time. 


A.  min. 
8 50 


sec. 

07 


Latitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  28  38 


ENCAMPMENT  BETWEEN  SMOKY  HILL  FORK  AND  THE  SANTA  FE  ROAD. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  22 , 1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

51 

40 

3 

55 

57 

75 

53 

40 

4 

00 

59 

75 

56 

00 

4 

03 

39 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

37  55 

38 

9 

Mean  time. 

! 

! 

Latitude. 

min. 

« | 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

29 

40 

38 

31 

sec- 

38 


556 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  BETWEEN  SMOKY  HILL  FORK  AND  THE  SANTA  FE  ROAD. 
Determination  of  longitude,  July  22,  1S44 — altitudes  of  a Jlquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquil®. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

. min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

90 

26 

30 

3 42 

09 

91 

37 

50 

45 

47 

92 

37 

20 

1 

48 

48 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

9-  15  03 

5 29  28.2 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SANTA  FE  ROAD. 

\ 

Determination  of  longitude. , July  23,  1844 — altitudes  of  a Aquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of 

a Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

t 

' r 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

80 

57 

25 

3 

08 

14.6 



81 

20 

50 

09 

22.0 

81 

39 

15 

10 

14.0 

81 

59 

45 

11 

11.0 

82 

22 

20 

12 

16.0  . 

82 

40 

45 

i 

• 

13 

07.0 

. . . — . 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


k:  min.  sec. 

8 42  47 


h. 

5 


Retard. 


min. 

32 


Longitude. 


sec. 

02.3 


557 


C M J 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SANTA  FE  ROAD. 
Determination  of  latitude , July  23,  1844  —altitudes  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

31 

25 

3 

16 

43 

75 

32 

10 

18 

14 

75 

33 

30 

20 

09 

75 

35 

35 

22 

02 

75 

35 

40 

23 

f 9 

75 

36 

50 

24 

39 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 

. 

True  altitude. 

1 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  45  46 

8 52  46 

38  33  22 

ENCAMPMENT  AT 

“BLACK  JACK,”  ON  THE 

SANTA  FE  ROAD. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec.  ' 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

76 

27 

25 

3 

29 

13 

76 

29 

40 

31 

08 

76 

31 

00 

33 

03 

76 

32 

40 

34 

47 

76 

33 

00 

35 

55 

76 

33 

50 

37 

36 

76 

35 

40 

40 

01 

76 

,36 

40 

41 

06 

76 

37 

45 

42 

21 

76 

38 

10 

43 

30 

- 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION 

• 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude, 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec . 

Deg.  min.  sec , 

38  15  33 

9 18  30 

38  46  50 

558 


[ *74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  “BLACK  JACK,’’  ON  THE  SANTA  FE  ROAD. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  rfrclurus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

t 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Arcturus. 

1 ! 

j Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitudes  of 
Aicturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

* 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec . 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

75 

59 

30 

3 46 

33  6 ; 

73 

55 

10 

3 51 

52.0 

75 

82 

40 

47 

41.0 

73 

30 

00 

52 

57.5 

75 

09 

30 

48 

40.5 

73 

03 

10 

54 

07.0 

74 

48 

50 

49 

33.0 

72 

33 

20 

55 

21.0 

74 

23 

30 

! 50 

1 

40.0 

72 

03 

20 

56 

39.7 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

1 

• 1 

j 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

}i.  min.  sec. 

1 h. 

min.  sec. 

9 33  02 

J 

41  37.6 

\ 


Determination  of  longitude , July  28,  1844 — altitudes  of  Jupiter. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitudes  of  Jupiter.  Time  of  chronometer. 

. 


✓ • ! 

Deg. 

min , 

see. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

61 

41 

20 

6 

50 

20.5 

61 

59 

40 

51 

13.0 

62 

21 

40 

52' 

17.0 

62 

40 

40 

53 

12.0 

63 

00 

V 

15 

54 

09.6 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

1 

Retard. 

1 

Longitude. 

, 

h.  nun.  sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec.  m 

i 

! 

i 

Of  j 

»0  ! 

; 

n ! 

CO 

o* 

5 

41 

37.7 

Im  mersion  of  Jupiter' s first  satellite . 


. Observed  time. 

i 

Mean  time. 

| 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

! 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

6 34  09 

12  15  49.7 

95  04  34 

METEOROLOGICAL  OBSERVATIONS 

c. 

\ 

MADE  DUHINR 


THE  EXPEDITION  OF  1843-’44. 


1 


561 


[ 174  1 


METEOROLOGICAL  OBSERVATIONS  MADE  DURING  THE  JOURNEY. 


Comparison  of  barometers. 

According  to  three  observations  made  at  the  observatory  of  Paris,  Lieutenant  Fremont’s  barom- 
eter, constructed  by  Bunten,  is  0.23  millimetres  higher  than  the  standard  of  the  observatory. 

The  result  of  forty-three  comparative  observations  of  both  barometers  of  Mr.  Fremont  with  both, 
my  barometers,  gives  the  following  : 

Barometer  E (English)  = E (French)  — 0.051  inch  ==  Fr.  (N.  Y.)  — 0.034  inch  = Fr. 
(Bunten)  — 0.091  inch. 

Barometer  E (French)  = E (English)  -f-  0.051  inch  = Fr.  (N.  Y.)  -{-  0.017  inch  = Fr. 
(Bunten)  — 0.040  inch. 

Barometer  Fr.  (Bunten)  = Fr.  (N.  Y.)  -f-  0.057  inch. 

Observations  from  May  1 to  May  11,  1843. 


Range  of  barometer  during  the  time,  ==  O'7. 4. 
Range  of  thermometer,  = 60°  to  80°  Fahrenheit. 

St.  Louis,  May  13,  1843. 


G.  ENGELMANN. 


36 


[ 174  ] 


562 

Table  of  meteorological  observations. 


Date. 

Time. 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 

Mi  llim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

June  10  | 

Sunrise 

733.74 

5.0 

39.3 

900 

Clear  sky;  fog;  wind  N. 

lh.  41m.  p.  m. 

735.43 

22.0 

69.0 

938 

NE.  wind;  clear,  and  fine  cumuli. 

Sunset 

733.95 

14.8 

55.4 

933 

Slight  breeze  from  NW.;  clear. 

11 

Sunrise 

734.00 

8.8 

48.6 

933 

Clear;  cumuli;  slight  breeze  from 
SW. 

12  1 

Sunrise 

728.95 

12.9 

55.0 

1,036 

Wind  S. ; clear;  clouds  in  E.  ho- 
rizon 

Noon 

726.02 

24.9 

75.4 

1,331 

Wind  S. ; clear;  few  cumuli. 

13  ! 

Sunrise 

726.15 

15.6 

59.5  ♦ 

1,267 

Wind  N. 

lh.  p.  m. 

726.19 

25.1 

76.0 

1,329 

Wind  N. ; clear;  cumuli. 

Sunset 

724.96 

22.0 

67.0 

1,406 

Sky  covered  with  scattered  clouds; 
calm;  bright  sunset. 

14  : 

1 

Sunrise 

723. 79 

16.3 

60.0  | 

1,406 

Thunder  and  rain;  rainbow  in 
the  W. 

15 

5h.  55m.  a.  m. 

721.67 

17.8 

61.6 

1,486 

At  sunset  last  night  a very  vio- 
lent and  continuous  rain  com- 
menced, wind  N W. , with  thun- 
der and  lightning,  for  half  an 
hour,  and  continued  moderate 
all  the  night.  This  morning 
calm  and  cloudy. 

Sunset 

724.34  | 

i 

24.0 

74.0 

1,555 

Gentle  breeze  from  NW.;  clear, 
and  cumuli. 

16 

1 

Sunset 

724.72 

19.1 

64.0 

1,401 

Wind  N.  60°  E. ; heavy  rains  du- 
ring the  foie  part  of  the  day; 
clouds  and  sun  in  the  afternoon ; 
clouds,  with  the  appearance  of 
fair  weather.' 

17 

4h.  47m.  a.  m. 

725.45 

16  5 I 

60.0 

1,347 

Sky  covered;  a misty  ram;  wind 
S.  60°  E. 

Noon 

723.42 

21.1 

71.0 

1,464 

Heavy  squalls  of  rain  during  the 
morning;  wind  shifting  from 
SE.  to  N.,  and  settled  SE.  with 
clouds  and  sun. 

Sunset 

721.19 

1 19.9 

] 69.0 

j 1,535 

Clear,  and  some  cumuli;  slight 
breeze  from  N. 

18 

i Sunrise 

| 

720.80 

16.1 

Lei. 2 

1,535 

Clear;  some  clouds  in  W.  hori- 
zon; wind  slight  from  SE. 

{ Sunset 

713.33 

25.7 

! 78.2 

1,911 

Wind  NE.;  sky  nearly  overcast 
with  cloulds. 

19 

; Sunrise 

712.07 

20.4 

69.0 

1,911 

Clear;  breeze  moderate  from  NE. 

Noon 

715.46 

31.5 

86.0 

: 1,868 

Clear;  breeze  SE. 

Sunset 

712.53 

27.0 

80.3 

; 1,903 

Clear;  breeze  SE. 

20 

Sunrise 

714.15 

20.8 

69.0 

j 1,903 

Clear  sky;  wind  SE. 

! Noon 

714.29 

31.1 

88.0 

1,930 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  wind  S. 

t Sunset 

707.07 

25.3 

77.0 

2,135 

Clear;  clouds  in  N W. ; wind  S. 
25°  E. 

21 

Sunrise 

1 708.49 

19.7 

67.0 

2,135 

Clear  and  cloudy;  wind  SE. 

Noon 

| 703.23 

28.4 

| 83.8 

2,386 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  SE. 

22 

Sunset 

i 701.15 

1 

! 16.0 

| 61.0 

2,262 

Clear  and  some  clouds;  slight 
breeze  from  NW. 

23 

Sunrise 

j 704.09 

! 9.0 

47.4 

2,262 

Sky  partially  overcast;  wind  N. 
70°  W. ; clear  in  NW. 

l Noon 

; 703.04 

22.7 

i 70.8 

2,316 

Clear;  wind  N.  70°  W. 

j Sunset 

i 699.78 

18.6 

1 65.4 

2,354 

Clear  and  calm. 

24 

i Sunrise 

698.49 

10.0 

| 49.0 

! 2,354 

Clear;  light  breeze  from  S.  60° 
W. 

25 

1 Sunrise 

! 689.19 

15.7 

! 59.5 

2,822 

Clear,  wind  S.  20°  W. 

563  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

1 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

I 

Remarks. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 

Millim. 

Cent . 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

June  25 

Noon 

686.60 

30.1 

90.5 

3,087 

Clear;  wind  S 35°  E. 

Sunset 

685.00 

21.1 

70.0 

3,037 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S ; a 

few  clouds. 

26 

Sunrise 

684.08 

15.8 

59.5 

3,037 

Calm  and  clear. 

Noon  ( ?) 

681.02 

31.9 

88.3 

3,322 

Clear;  wind  S. 

27 

Sunrise 

672.33 

12.0 

53.5 

3,486 

Clear;  overcast  from  NW.  to 

NE.;  slight  breeze  from  E. 

Noon 

670.97 

29.4 

83.0 

3,732 

Overcast;  breeze  from  N.  20°  E. 

Sunset 

667.20 

22.9 

73.0 

3,757 

Clear  and  cumuli;  breeze  N. 

28 

Sunrise 

667.75 

11.7 

52.0 

3,757 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  W. ; a 

few  clouds. 

Sunset 

661.63 

25.8 

77.0 

4,070 

Clear;  breeze  from  SE. 

29 

Sunrise 

659.73 

16.8 

68.4 

4,070 

Clear;  breeze  moderate  from  N. 

lh.  26m.  p.  m.  - 

653.94 

30.0 

85.2 

4,532 

80°  W. 

Clear;  breeze  moderate  from  N. 

80°  W. 

Sunset 

650.92 

23.9 

74.5 

4,590 

Clear;  some  clouds. 

650.29 

19.3 

66.7 

4,562 

Clear;  light  air  from  E. 

30 

Sunrise 

647.75 

14.8 

58.0 

4,621 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  SW. 

3h.  48m.  p.  m.  - 

655.76 

26.5 

76.0 

4,402 

j Clear  and  clouds  in  the  horizon; 

j strong  wind  from  NE. 

Sunset 

657.39 

20.6 

69.4 

4,089 

| Heavy  clouds  arising  since  an 
i hour;  sky  partially  covered;  ap  • 
pearance  of  bad  weather;  gale 

of  wind  from  SE.,  and  light- 
ning from  the  same  quarter. 

July  1 

Sunrise 

663.74 

12.6 

54.0 

4,089 

Clear;  some  clouds;  moderate 

Noon 

663.60 

21.2  1 

70.0 

4,015 

wind  from  N. 

Clear;  wind  N.;  moderate. 

Sunset 

662.02 

15.8  ! 

59.0 

3,976 

Clear;  wind  ME.;  moderate. 

2 

Sunrise 

661.75 

6.6 

43.0 

3,976 

Slight  breeze  from  NE. 

Noon 

658.32 

27.7  1 

80.0 

4,336 

Clear;  strong  wind  from  S.  60°  E. 

Sunset 

654.05  j 

2i.9  ; 

72.0 

4,419 

Clear;  moderate  breeze  from  S. 
35°  E. 

Calm  and  clear. 

3 

Sunrise 

652.49 

10.0 

47.0 

4,419 

Noon 

649.91 

31.0  j 

87.5 

4,771 

Calm  and  clear. 

Sunset 

646.46 

25.5  j 

78.0  ! 

4,760 

Slight  breeze  from  NW. ; sky 

covered  with  heavy  clouds;  a 
thunder  storm  passing  by. 

4 

Sunrise  - 1 

646.19 

10  6 

51.5 

4,760 

Air  SW. ; clear  and  clouds. 

lh.  53m.  p.  m.  - ‘ 

643.55 

33.3 

85.5  | 

5,068 

Moderate  breeze  from  E.;  clear 

and  clouds. 

3h.  53m.  p.  m.  - 

642.69  | 

34.2  j 

92.2  j 

5,143 

Moderate  breeze  from  E.;  clear 

r i 

and  clouds. 

Sunset 

641.34 

23. 1 : 

74.0  j 

4,947 

Calm;  clear;  clouds  in  horizon. 

5 

8unrise 

642.85 

14.0  j 

53.0  ! 

4,947 

Calm  and  clear;  some  clouds. 

7h.  53m.  a.  rn.  - 

644.51 

23.7  ! 

84.4  | 

- 

Calm  and  clear;  some  clouds. 

Noon 

645.41 

29.4  | 

85.0 

4,947 

Slight  breeze  from  NW.;  clear; 

clouds;  big  clouds  over  the 
mountains. 

lh.  57m.  p.  m.  - 

645. 14 

31.6  j 

88.6 

- 

Slight  breeze  from  NW.;  clear; 

clouds;  big  clouds  over  the 
mountains. 

3h.  57na.  p.  m.  - 

643.96 

31.3  1 

i 88.2 

5,027 

Slight  breeze  from  NW.;  thun- 

der storm  approaching. 

6 

5h.  3m-  a,  m.  * 

646.96 

17.4  ! 

62.  G 

! 4.721 

Cloudy;  air  from  S. 

[ 174  ] 564 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Time. 

Barom 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Date. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 
July  5 6 

6h,  58m,  a.  m.  - 

Millim. 

647.91 

Cent. 

24.0 

Fakr. 

82.4 

Feet. 

4,899 

Clear  and  clouds;  slight  breeze  or 

7 

Noon 

639.55 

22.0 

73. 0 

5,103 

air  from  SW. 

Clear;  clouds  in  horizon;  moder- 

lh. 13m.  p.  m.  - 

638.84 

23.5 

78.5 

5,192 

ate  breeze  from  N. 

Clear;  clouds  in  horizon;  moder- 

5h. 43m.  p.  m.  - 

635.13 

21.7 

69.2 

5,305 

ate  breeze  from  N. 

Overcast  with  clouds;  a little 

Sunset 

635  93 

18.0 

64.0 

5,203 

rain;  air  from  N. 

Clear  over  head;  cloudy  horizon, 

8 

Sunrise 

635.61 

14.0 

55.5 

5,203 

mountains  covered  with  dark 
clouds. 

Air  S. ; clear;  cloudy  horizon. 

Noon 

631.43 

2-1.8 

72.0 

5,497 

Overcast;  rainy  appearance;  slight 

lh.  29m.  p.  m.  - 

630.89 

22.3 

73.5 

5,531 

breeze  from  N.  60°  W. 
Overcast;  rainy  appearance;  slight 

9 

Sunrise 

623.05 

13.7 

55.0 

5,756 

breeze  from  N.  60°  W . 
Overcast;  air  from  E. 

Oh.  45m.  p.  m.  - 

604  64 

24.2 

70.1 

6,759 

Clear  and  clouds;  moderate  breeze 

2h.  45m.  p.  m.  - 

603.49 

20.0 

66.5 

6,770 

from  N.  25°  E. 

Overcast;  moderate  breeze  from 

Sunset 

601.96 

14.1 

57.0 

6,750 

N.  25°  E. 

Overcast;  calm:  moderate  breeze 

10 

Sunrise 

j 600.59 

10.2 

49.0 

6,750 

from  N.  25°  E. 

Overcast  with  rainy  clouds;  wind 

Noon 

609.20 

20.4 

68.0 

6,517 

S.  30°  E. 

Overcast,  and  some  blue  sky; 

Oh.  45m-  p.  m.  - 

608.90 

20.2 

66.2 

6,520 

wind  moderate  from  E. 

1 Overcast,  and  some  blue  sky; 

5h.  30m.  p.  m,  - 

| 615.86 

20.1 

74.0 

6,238 

i wind  moderate  from  E. 

Clear;  some  clouds;  wind  slight 

Sunset 

j 615.85 

17.1 

63.0 

from  E. 

! Clear;  some  clouds;  wind  slight 

Sunset 

615.85 

17.1 

63.0 

6,135 

j from  E. 

Clear;  some  clouds;  wind  slight 

11 

Sunrise 

614.65 

10.9 

51.0 

6,135 

from  E. 

Wind  SE. ; clear. 

2h.  5m.  p.  m.  - 

589.80 

21.1 

70.0 

7,464 

Overcast;  moderate  wind  SE. 

Sunset 

589.46 

18.8 

65.0 

7,305 

Clear  and  clouds;  slight  breeze 

12 

Sunrise 

588.13 

7.8 

44.0 

7,305 

from  SW. 

Clear;  slight  wind  from  NE. 

lh.  20m.  p.  m.  - 

611.99 

32.0 

87.5 

6,544 

Clear;  slight  wind  from  NE. 

3h.  20m.  p.  m.  - 

611.61 

32.4 

89.5 

6,577 

Clear;  moderate  wind  from  S. 

Sunset 

620.79 

21.5 

69.5 

5,797 

Clouds,  and  some  clear  sky; 

13 

Sunrise 

621.40 

8.1 

46.0 

5,797 

calm. 

Clear;  breeze  from  NW. 

Noon 

633.51 

30.8 

87.0 

5,518 

Clear,  and  some  clouds;  wind 

lh.  28m.  p.  m.  - 

633.00 

30.8 

85.0 

5,533 

SE. 

Clear,  and  some  clouds;  wind 

14 

Sunrise  ( ?) 

639.60 

13  8 

58  2 

5,086 

SE. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Noon 

648.84 

32.1 

90.0 

4,885 

Clear  and  clouds;  calm. 

lh.  30m.  p m.  - 

648.20 

35.7 

88.5 

5,030 

Fresh  breeze  from  E. 

4h.  p.  m. 

646.51 

28.0 

82.5 

5,038 

Calm;  thunder  storm  approach- 

15 

Sunrise 

647.85 

15.8 

59.3 

4,655 

ing. 

Clear;  a few  clouds;  calm. 

8h.  50m.  p.  m.  - 

648.39 

25.9 

83.0 

4,795 

Clear  and  clouds;  flaws  of  wiad 

Noon 

648,08 

32,9 

91,0 

4,881 

from  SW. 

Clear.;  clouds;  calm, 

565  [ 174  J 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Barom. 

Thermometer. 

! 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Date. 

Time. 

Attached 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 
July  15 

2h.  20m.  p.  m. 

Millim. 

647.49 

Cent. 

33.9 

Fahr. 

94.2 

Feet,  j 
4,929 

Clear  and  clouds;  flaws  from 

4h.  20m.  p.  m. 

646.69 

28.7 

83.5 

4,890 

SW. 

Overcast;  moderate  breeze  from 

Sunset 

646.70 

24.0 

74.8 

4,774  ! 

SW. 

Overcast;  calm;  dark  clouds  in 
E. 

Calm;  clear;  few  cumuli. 

* 16 

Sunrise 

646.36 

13.3 

57.0 

4,774 

Noon 

637.37 

28.2 

82.0 

5,324 

Strong  wind  from  N.  20°  E.; 

lh.  50m.  p.  m. 

637.37 

29.2 

84.5 

5,456 

squall  of  rain  just  passing  over; 
masses  of  cumuli, 
i Weather  growing  worse. 

17 

Sunrise 

634.19 

15.6 

5R.2 

5,292 

| Cloudy;  some  clear  sky;  calm. 

Noon 

625.37 

26.5 

77.0 

5,851 

Wind  E ; clear;  some  cumuli; 

lh.  Gm.  p.  m. 

625.37 

27.1 

78.5 

5,863 

dark  clouds  above  the  moun- 
tains. 

i Wind  E.;  clear;  some  cumuli; 

18 

/ 

Sunrise 

617.88 

10.6 

49.0 

5,958 

dark  clouds  above  the  moun- 
\ tains. 

j Clear;  slight  breeze  from  W. 

5h.  27m.  a.  m. 

617.35 

12.4 

54.0 

6,020 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  W. 

lOh.  50m.  a m. 

615.17 

27.8 

73.0 

6,318 

j Clear  and  calm;  temperature  of 

Noon 

615.25 

29.2 

78.6 

6,351 

upper  spring  = 69°. 0 Fahr., 
lower  spring  ==  60°. 5 Fahr. 
j Clear;  some  cumuli;  darker 

Sunset 

613.90 

| 20.3 

66.0 

6,260 

clouds  over  the  mountains; 
slight  breeze  SE 

! Cloudy;  wind  NW.,  but  chang- 

19 

Sunrise 

613.04 

13.6 

57.5 

6,260 

ing  every  instant;  temperature 
i of  upper  spring  = 61°.0,  lower 
spring  = 58°.  0 Fahr. 

! Clear;  a slight  breeze  from  NW.; 

Noon 

614.04 

29.7 

j 86.0 

6,337 

1 temperature  of  upper  spring  = 

1 57°.  8,  lower  spring  54°.  3 F ahr. 

| Moderate  breeze  from  N. ; clouds; 

lh.  50m.  p.  m. 

613.26 

26.0 

77.5 

j 6,391 

some  clear  sky;  thunder  storm 
j in  N. 

j Cloudy  over  the  mountains;  clear 

Sunset 

606.80 

18.6 

62.5 

j 6,527 

j in  N. ; breeze  NE. 

Cloudy;  thunder  storm  has  pass- 

20 

Sunrise 

604.94 

1 7.6 

! 44.2 

6,527 

ed;  clear  above  the  mountains; 
breeze  from  S.,  but  changing 
every  moment  to  every  quarter. 
Clear  and  calm. 

lh.  22m.  p.  m. 

608.56 

I 26.9 

1 77.2 

6, 6 J 3 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  slight  breeze 

2h.  52m.  p.  m. 

608.16 

28.2 

78.5 

6,647 

from  N. 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  slight  breeze 

Sunset 

615.34 

20  6 

69.2 

6,122 

from  N. 
Cloudy;  calm. 

21 

Sunrise 

614.60 

7.4 

j 44.8 

6,122 

Slight  breeze  from  SE. ; clear. 

lh.  4m.  p.  m. 

633  30 

28.5 

83.5 

5,488 

Clear;  some  cumuli;  slight  breeze 

2h.  32m.  p.  m. 

632.57 

j 24.3 

| 75.0 

5,457 

from  NW. 

Thunder  storm,  with  rain,  ad- 

Sunset 

636.25 

| 21.8 

71.0 

5,192 

vancing  from  NW. 

Cloudy;  some  clear  sky;  calm. 

22 

Sunrise 

634.50 

7.2 

44.4 

5,192 

Clear;  air  from  SE. 

Oh.  37m.  p.  m. 

641.03 

31.9 

! 85.0 

i 5,161 

Clear;  air  from  NW. 

2h.  8m.  p.  m. 

641.03 

31.6 

| 86  0 

5,163 

Clear;  air  from  NW. 

Sunset 

641.19 

1 22.7 

1 73.0 

i 4,974 

1 Clear;  slight  breeze  from  E. 

[ 174  ] 566 

Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued 


Date. 

Time. 

Barom.  | 

Thermor 

Attached. 

neter. 

Free. 

Alti- 

tudes. 

1843. 

Millim.  | 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

July  23 

Sunrise 

639  62 

7.4 

45.0 

4,974 

Noon 

645.29 

29.8 

85.0 

4,959 

2h.  p.  m. 

645.09 

36.6 

90.0 

5,026 

4h.  p.  m. 

644.49 

30.4 

88.3 

5,080 

Sunset 

643.35 

2L8 

74.0 

4,940 

24 

5h.  54m.  a.  m. 

642.95 

13.0 

55.0 

4,940 

2h.  4 m.  p.  m. 

641.70 

32.8 

89.0 

5,143 

4h.  4m.  p.  m. 

640  95 

33.4 

83.5 

5,179 

25 

Sunrise 

641.39 

13.4 

55.0 

4,965 

lOh.  5m.  a.  m. 

643.74 

27.7 

81.5 

4,991 

2h.  5m.  p.  m. 

643.00  ! 

28.6 

82.0 

5,032 

4h.  5m.  p.  m. 

642.48 

27.8 

81.5 

5,048 

Sunset 

643.50 

20.8 

69.0 

4,857 

26 

Sunrise 

644.35 

14.4 

58.0 

4,857 

Sunset 

644.00 

17.8 

64.0 

4,866 

27 

lh.  16m.  p.  m 

642.29 

31.4 

87.0 

5,128 

3h.  p.  m. 

641.54 

32.7 

87.2 

5,170 

Sunset 

636.00 

24.4 

70.0 

5,184 

28 

Sunrise 

643.11 

15.0 

58.8 

5,184 

Noon 

637.78 

22.1 

71.0 

5,210 

lh.  26m.  p.  m. 

637.40 

21.2 

68.2 

5,201 

29 

4h.  26m.  a.  m. 

631.85 

12.0 

53.0 

5,336 

6h.  56m.  p.  m. 

627.50 

14.0 

55.5 

5,557 

30 

5h.  11m.  a.  m. 

627.64 

11.6 

52.5 

5,530 

Noon 

612.53 

20.0 

64.5 

6,339 

lh.  26m.  p.  m. 

612.24 

20.6 

65.3 

6,359 

Sunset 

585.52 

12.3 

54.0 

7,521 

31 

Sunrise 

584.40 

10.8 

48.0 

7,521 

Noon 

582.29 

22.6 

69.0 

7,844 

Oh.  36m.  p m. 

582.29 

22^5 

69.5 

7,847 

Sunset 

! 592.70 

17.7 

64.0 

7,178 

Aug.  1 

Sunrise 

; 592.20 

6.2 

42.4 

7,178 

Noon 

592.19 

24.0 

72.0  | 

7,382 

Oh.  54m.  p.  m. 

I 592.06 

24.8 

74.0 

7,408 

Sunset 

! 582.75 

16.4 

62.0 

7,730 

2 

Sunrise 

580.55 

11.0 

51.6 

7,730 

Noon 

579.79 

22.2 

73.0 

7,994 

lh.  24m.  p.  m. 

579.40 

22.2 

70.5 

7,995 

3 

Sunrise 

579.37 

| 1.2 

33.0 

7,602 

9h.  52m.  a.  m. 

1 572.37 

19.0 

68.8 

8,314 

j Sunset 

592.95 

18*4 

66.0 

7,143 

4 

Sunrise 

j 593.64 

6.2 

38.5 

7,143 

Oh.  32m.  p.  m. 

! 602.88 

26.3 

79.5 

6,951 

lh.  42m.  p.  m. 

1 602.88 

28.1 

80.0 

! 6,963 

6 

8h.  50m.  a.  m. 

604.71 

17.5 

64.0 

6,727 

9h.  50m.  a.  m.  ; 

| 604.80 

19.6 

67.2 

j 6,755 

lOh.  50m.  a.  m.  | 

604.60 

21.3 

69.5  i 

! 6,786 

Remarks. 


Clear;  airfrom'E. 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  E. 
Clear;  slight  breeze  from  E. 
Clear;  slight  breeze  from  E. 
Clear  and  calm. 

Clear;  air  from  W. 

Clear;  air  from  W.;  clouds  in 
horizon. 

Clear;  wind  from  E. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  breeze  from  S. 
Overcast;  air  from  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  air  from  E. 
Clear  and  clouds;  breeze  from  N. 
Clear  and  clouds;  thunder  storm 
coming  up  from  N. 

Clear  and  clouds;  breeze  from  N. 
Overcast;  calm. 

Overcast;  breeze  S.  25°  W. 
Beginning  to  rain. 

Fine  rain;  calm. 

Rainy. 

Misty;  rainy  appearance;  calm. 
Clear  and  clouds;  slight  breeze 
from  SE. 

Clear  and  clouds;  slight  breeze 
from  SE. 

Clear;  moderate  breeze  from  S. 
Clear;  mist  still  in  horizon;  breeze 
W. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N.240  W. 
Clear  and  clouds;  wind  N.  24°  W. 
Clear;  cloudy  in  horizon ; wind  E. 
Clear  and  calm. 

Clouds;  a little  rain;  a little  clear; 

slight  breeze  from  NE. 

Clouds;  a little  rain;  a little  clear; 

slight  breeze  from  NE. 

Clear  and  clouds ; breeze  from  NE . 
Clear;  wind  W. 

Clear;  clouds;  strong  wind  from 
W. 

Clear;  clouds;  strong  wind  from 
W. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sky  covered  with  thin  misty 
clouds;  breeze  S.  70°  W. 
Clear;  clouds;  moderate  breeze 
from  W. 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  calm. 
Cloudy;  some  clear  sky;  slight 
breeze  from  S. 

Cloudy;  strong  breeze  from  S. 
Clear  and  calm. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Clear  and  calm. 


56“ 


[ 174  ] 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 

Mi  Him. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

Aug.  5 

Noon 

604.65 

24,4 

75.0 

6,825 

Clear;  calm;  cloudy. 

Oh.  50m.  p.  m. 

604.45 

25.5 

79.5 

6,881 

Clear;  calm;  cloudy. 

lh.  50m.  p.  m. 

604.45 

25.8 

78.2 

6,875 

Clear;  calm;  cloudy. 

2h.  50m.  p.  m. 

604.45 

26.0 

77.5 

6,871 

Clear;  calm;  cloudy. 

3h.  50m.  p.  m. 

603.85 

26.5 

75.2 

6,888 

Clear;  W.  wind  in  squalls. 

4h.  50m.  p.  m. 

603.44 

25.8 

95.0 

- 

Free  thermometer  in  the  sun. 

Sunset 

603.09 

20.8 

70.0  | 

6,743 

Clear;  some  clouds;  W.  wind  in 
squalls. 

6 

Sunrise 

602  70 

7.5 

46.0 

6,743 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

588.40 

19.3 

63.5 

7,490 

Cloudy;  thunder  storm  approach- 
ing; air  from  E. ; temperature 
of  spring,  46°  Fahr. 

7 

Sunrise 

587.19 

8.0 

43.0 

6,040 

Air  from  W. ; clear. 

lh.  50m.  p.  m. 

597.59 

27.0 

79.5 

7,196 

Clear  and  clouds;  breeze  from  W. 

Sunset 

596.70 

21.4 

69.8 

7,000 

Clear  and  cloudy;  slight  breeze 
from  W. 

8 

Sunrise 

596.40 

12.6 

52.0 

7,000 

Cloudy;  wind  from  E. 

2h.  28m.  p.  m. 

606.81 

25.5 

78.0 

6,784 

Cloudy;  wind  from  S. 

9 

Sunrise 

603.84 

11.1 

51.0 

6,594 

Cloudy;  rain  last  night;  wind 
from  N. 

Noon 

611.16 

24.8 

77.0 

6,483 

Clouds  and  clear;  wind  NW. 

lh.  7m.  p.  m. 

610.77 

26.5 

78.0 

6,517 

Clouds  and  clear;  wind  NW. 

10 

Sunrise 

614.05 

6.8 

41.0 

6,028 

Clear;  some  clouds;  calm. 

Noon  - 1 

610  80 

26.6 

78.0 

6,502 

Clear;  squalls  from  all  points. 

Sunset 

607.77 

22.0 

71.8 

6,557 

Moderate  breeze  from  W. ; clear; 
horizon  dirty. 

11 

Sunrise 

605.56 

12.8 

56.5 

6,557 

Clear;  fresh  breeze  from  W. 

2h.  8m.  p.  m. 

600.30 

22.6 

71.0 

6,926 

Hazy;  fresh  breeze  from  W. 

Sunset 

599.39  j 

16.8 

61.2 

6,720 

Clear  and  clouds;  moderate  wind 
from  NW. 

12 

Sunrise 

600.14  i 

1.6 

31.8 

- 

Clear;  calm;  white  frost. 

lh.  20m.  p.  m. 

587.45 

17.5 

60.5 

7,446 

Clear;  calm;  moderate  wind  from 
NW. 

Sunset 

587.76  ! 

11.6 

52.8 

7,221 

Calm  and  clear. 

13 

Sunrise 

587.74  1 

— 1.5 

28.0  i 

7,221 

Calm  and  clear;  white  frost. 

lUh.  2m.  a.  m. 

587.03  i 

17.9 

64.2 

7,489 

At  the  divide;  moderate  breeze 
from  NW. 

| 

Noon 

592.92  1 

21.6 

67.0 

7,242 

Moderate  breeze  from  NW. 

Oh.  40m.  p.  m. 

592.65 

22.1 

68.0 

7,265 

Moderate  breeze  from  NW. 

Sunset 

595.20 

; 19.8 

67.2 

6,951 

Clear  and  calm. 

14 

Sunrise 

, 595.27 

1.2 

32.2 

6,951 

Clear;  air  from  NW. 

1 

lOh.  50m.  a.  m. 

602.45 

24.8 

75.2 

6,846 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S. 

Noon 

602.44 

29.2 

86.1 

6,941 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S. 

Sunset 

602.52 

23.8 

75.0 

6,667 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from.  NW. 

15 

Sunrise 

604.45 

2.4 

34.0 

6,667 

Clear;  wind  from  N. 

2h.  p.  m. 

611.50 

29.2 

84.2 

6,546 

Clear  over  head;  dirty  horizon; 
calm. 

3h.  p.  m. 

611.28 

| 29.8 

86.5 

6,516 

I Clear  over  head;  dirty  horizon; 
calm. 

Sunset 

610.94 

19.0 

65.2 

' 6,238 

Clear  over  head;  dirty  horizon; 
calm. 

16 

Sunrise 

610.36 

3.2 

37.0 

6,238 

Clear  and  calm. 

Noon 

613.34 

30.1 

1 

82.0 

6,399 

Clear  over  head;  horizon  dirty,; 
wind  squally  from  N. 

Sunset 

613.31 

23.6 

1 

74.3 

6,150 

Clear  over  head;  horizon  dirty; 
slight  breeze  from  N. 

17 

Sunrise 

614.24 

] 3.9 

38.4 

! 6,150 

Clear;  foggy  horizon;  air  from 
! SW. 

[ 174  ] 568 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Time. 

Barom. 

| Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Date. 

1 

J Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

Remarks. 

1843. 
Aug.  17 

2h.  3m.  p.  m. 

Millim. 

610.45 

1 Cent. 
29.1 

Fafir. 

84.0 

Feet. 

6,558 

Clear;  foggy  horizon;  calm. 

Sunset 

610.68 

18.1 

64.0 

6,234 

Clear;  horizon  more  pure;  calm. 

18 

Sunrise 

611.83 

5.3 

38.1 

6,234 

Clear;  air  from  N.  80°  W. ; hazy 

2h.  p.  m. 

607.04 

31.5 

82.6 

6,735 

horizon. 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  W. 

3h.  p.  m. 

607.04 

31.9 

82.0 

6,732 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  W. 

19 

Sunrise 

606.30 

4.6 

38.6 

6,361 

Smoky  horizon;  calm  and  clear. 

Noon 

608.85 

32.9 

88.0 

6,640 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  breeze  in 

Oh.  46m.  p.  m. 

608.54 

33.2 

! 89.0 

6,719 

squalls  from  SW. 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  breeze  in 

Sunset 

602.75 

25.0 

j 72.2 

6,661 

squalls  from  SW. 

Clear  and  calm ; horizon  not  pure. 

20 

Sunrise 

602.05 

4.2 

| 37.0 

6,661 

Clear,  and  dirty  horizon;  breeze 

Noon 

596.33 

27.7 

80.5 

7,227 

from  NW. 

Moderate  wind  N.  60°  W. ; hazy 

lh.  p.  m. 

596.33 

30.0 

82.5 

7,257 

sun. 

Moderate  wind  N.  60°  W. ; hazy 

4h.  10m.  p.  m. 

575.87 

27.2 

79.2 

8,234 

sun. 

Dividing  ridge;  smoky;  sun  faint; 

21 

Sunrise 

607.06 

6.6 

43.8 

6,358 

scattered  cumuli;  thunder  storm 
some  distance  in  E.;  high  wind 
N.  60°  W. 

Smoky;  sun  faint;  cumuli;  air 

Noon 

614.45 

31.6 

89.0 

6,416 

SE. 

Smoky;  sun  faint;  calm. 

lh.  5m.  p.  m. 

613.93 

31.0 

! 87.0 

6,425 

Smoky;  sun  faint;  wind  in  squalls 

Sunset 

612.41 

18.8 

65.0  1 

6,185 

from  S. 

Cumuli;  thunder  storm  at  a dis- 

22 

Sunrise 

612.29 

4.6 

36.5 

6,185 

tance;  slight  breeze  from  N. 
Smoky;  scattered  cumuli;  calm. 

Noon 

616.50 

28.7 

84.8 

6,281 

Very  smoky;  sun  faint;  cumuli; 

lh.  30m.  p.  m. 

616.02 

27.2 

79.0 

6,264 

calm. 

Very  smoky;  high  wind  from  N. 

23 

Sunrise 

616.03 

8.6 

47.2 

5,989 

10°  W.;  rainy  appearance. 
Smoky;  clear;  cold  breeze  from  S. 

24 

Noon 

614.88 

25.2 

75.2 

6,290 

Wind  in  squalls  from  NW. 

Oh.  45m.  p.  m. 

614.88 

25.7 

74.5  | 

6,288 

Clear;  very  smoky. 

Sunset 

618.77 

14.2 

56.4 

5,843 

Clear  and  calm;  very  smoky. 

25 

Sunrise 

621.22 

7.7 

45.4 

5,843 

Clear;  hazy;  cold  wind  from  SE. 

Noon 

624.34 

26.0 

72.2 

5,841 

Clear;  hazy;  breeze  in  squalls 

Sunset 

621.83 

16.8 

62.5 

5,738 

from  SE. 

Clear;  hazy;  calm;  temperature  of 

26 

Sunrise 

620.84 

0. 

28.5 

5,738 

Big  Spring  = 65°. 0 Fahr. 
Clear;  smoky;  calm;  temperature 

Noon 

623.64 

31.4 

83.3 

5,958 

CBig  Spring  = 56°.  0 Fahr. 
of  < Steam  hole  = 81°.  5 “ 

(^Steamboat  = 87°.  0 “ 

Clear;  smoky;  moderate  breeze 

Sunset 

638.67 

22.6 

68.3  | 

5,012 

from  S.  25°  E. 
Clear;  smoky;  calm. 

27 

Sunrise 

637.64  J 

0. 

29.0  | 

5,012 

Clear;  smoky;  some  cumuli; 

Noon 

635.86  ! 

24.7 

77.0  , 

5,320 

calm. 

Cloudy;  rainy  appearance;  not 

1 

635.70  I 

26.1  | 

79.5 

5,347 

quite  so  smoky;  breeze  S.  70° 
W. 

Partly  clouded  sky. 

569  [ 174  ] 

Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

I 

Alti- 
tudes. | 

Attached. 

i 

Free,  i 

1843. 

Millim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet.  \ 

Aug.  27 

Sunset 

636.25 

20.8 

69.2 

5,142  i 

28 

Sunrise 

638.33 

14.6 

55.0 

5,142  l 

2h.  p.  m. 

648  50 

28.3 

78.0 

4,764 

Sunset 

647.77 

20.3 

65.0  ! 

4,681 

29 

Sunrise 

646  70 

14.1 

54  0 | 

4,681 

Noon 

629.32 

21.8 

71.0  ! 

5,561  ' 

lh.  p.  m. 

629.55 

25.1 

76.0 

5,595  1 

30 

Sunrise 

623.40 

4.2 

39.0 

5,570  j 

Noon 

637.29 

19.8 

67.0 

5,169 

lh.  30m.  p.  m. 

636.95 

22.7 

73.0 

5,228 

Sunset 

644.49 

19.8 

64.0 

4,723  j 

31 

Sunrise 

646.04 

8.2 

44.5 

4,723  | 

Noon 

649.63 

26.6 

71.0 

4,666 

Sept.  1 

4h.  48m.  p.  m. 

659.55 

20.2 

65.0 

4,189  I 

Sunset 

658.91 

12.8 

54.5 

4,093  ! 

2 

Sunrise 

659.04 

6.2 

41.2 

4,093  1 

3 

5h.  30m.  a.  m. 

658.39 

8.5 

45.5 

4,113 

8h.  5Cm.  a.  m. 

660.14 

22.6 

61.3 

4,170 

9h.  50m.  a.  m. 

660.04 

22.0 

66.0 

4,190 

lOh.  50m.  a.  m. 

660.15 

23.2 

69.0 

4,195  1 

Noon 

660.27 

25.2 

72.5 

! 4,222  : 

2h.  p.  m. 

659.28 

23.7 

79.0 

4,282  j 

Sunset 

656.83 

16.2 

60.5 

4,247 

4 

5h.  33m.  a.  m. 

655.78 

7.5 

42.0 

4,247  1 

Sunset 

653.10 

22.8 

75.5 

4,526 

5 

Sunrise 

652.39 

18.0 

64.5 

4,526  ; 

Sunset 

650.11 

18.8 

| 65.0 

4,496  j 

6 

Sunrise 

652.03 

8.6 

45.5 

1 4,496 

Sunset 

656.25 

15.7 

j 55.0 

4,173 

7 

Sunrise 

: 658.21 

5.3 

39.5 

4,173 

Remarks. 


Dark  clouds;  very  little  blue; 
slight  breeze  from  S. 

Slight  breeze  from  N. ; * light 
clouds  all  over  the  sky;  thun- 
der storm  last  night,  with  mod- 
erate rain,  which  has  made  the 
air  clear. 

Fresh  breeze  S.  20°  E.;  clear 
over  head;  clouds;  rain  in  the 
horizon. 

Calm;  clear;  cumuli. 

Air  from  NW. ; dark  rainy  clouds 
moving  on  the  horizon;  over 
head  not  so  dark;  considera- 
ble rain  last  night;  thunder  and 
wind. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  from  E. 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  from  E. 

Clear;  clouds  in  horizon;  con- 
stant thunder  storms,  with  rain 
last  night;  calm. 

Wind  SW. ; clouds  and  blue  sky. 

Strong  wind  SW. ; clouds  and 
blue  sky. 

Calm;  almost  overcast  with  heavy 
clouds. 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S.  70° 
W. 

Clear;  clouds;  calm;  began  to  rain 
at  sunset,  and  continued  almost 
the  whole  night. 

Clear  and  clouds;  fresh  breeze 
from  S. 

Clear  and  calm;  few  clouds. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Clear;  air  from  N. 

Clear;  air  from  S. 

Clear;  air  from  S. 

Clear;  air  from  S. 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S. 

Clear;  slight  breeze  from  S. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Calm;  clear,  and  clouds  in  the 
horizon. 

Wind  brisk  from  SE.;  clouds; 
rainy  appearance;  there  was  a 
thunder  storm  at  a distance,  and 
some  rain  last  night. 

Clear  over  head;  dark  clouds  in 
horizon;  thunder  storm  with 
rain  in  the  afternoon. 

Clear  and  calm;  some  cumuli  in 
the  horizon. 

Clear  and  some  cumuli;  calm; 
thunder  storm  with  some  rain 
and  a gale  this  afternoon. 

Clear  and  calm. 


[ 174  ] 570 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


! 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Date. 

Time. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 

Millim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

Sept.  7 

6h.  50m.  a.  m. 

658.95 

8.6 

47.0 

4,086 

Clear  and  calm. 

7h.  50m.  a.  m. 

659.44 

12.8 

55.7 

4,119 

Clear  and  calm. 

8h.  50m.  a.  m. 

659.89 

15.0 

59.2 

4,125 

Clear  and  calm. 

9h.  50m.  a.  m. 

660.09 

17.8 

64.5 

4,152 

Clear  and  calm. 

lOh.  50m.  a.  m. 

660.10 

19.6 

67.2 

4,172 

Clear  and  gentle  breeze  from  N. 
25°  E. 

Noon 

659.88 

24.6 

70.0 

4,218 

Clear,  and  wind  in  squalls  from 
same  quarter. 

Oh.  50m.  p.  m. 

659.42 

23.3 

71.2 

4,235 

Clear,  and  wind  in  squalls  from 
S.  25°  W. 

lh.  50m.  p.  m. 

659.66 

27.0 

75.0 

4,258 

Clear,  and  wind  in  squalls  from 
S.  25°  W. 

2h.  50m.  p.  m. 

659.40 

27.8 

74.3 

4,271 

Clear,  and  wind  in  squalls  from 
S.  25°  W. 

3h.  50m.  p.  m. 

659.12 

26.9 

72.0 

4,270 

Clear,  and  some  clouds  in  the  ho- 
rizon. 

4h.  50m.  p.  m. 

659.03 

26.8 

73.0 

4,276 

Clear,  and  some  clouds  in  the  ho- 
rizon. 

Sunset 

657.69 

15.7 

61.5 

4,181 

Clear  over  head;  light  clouds  in 
horizon;  calm. 

8 

Sunrise 

656.59 

5.8 

40.9 

4,181 

Clear;  clouds  in  the  horizon; 
calm. 

4h.  p.  m. 

657.22 

23.2 

73.0 

4,320 

Clear  over  head;  clouds  in  the  ho- 
rizon; air  from  SW. 

Sunset 

656.71 

18.7 

64.0 

4,226 

Clear  over  head;  clouds  in  the  ho- 
rizon; air  from  SW. ; calm. 

9 

Sunrise 

656.39 

10.0 

49.2 

4,226 

Clear  and  calm. 

Oh.  18m.  p.  m. 

658.39 

28.2 

75.0 

4,276 

Clear  over  head;  clouds  in  hori- 
zon; air  from  SE. 

4h.  40m.  p.  m. 

638.82 

27.1 

~ 

5,159 

On  the  peak  of  Crater  island;  air 
from  SE. 

5h.  23m.  p.  m. 

656.05 

24.6 

72.0 

4,336 

On  the  shore  of  the  lake;  air  from 
SE. 

30 

Sunrise 

654.11 

15.2 

59.0 

4,336 

Clear;  scattered  cumuli;  a gale  of 
wind  S.  55°  E. 

Oh.  52m.  p.  m. 

654.22 

30.3 

86.8 

4,508 

At  the  foot  of  the  peninsula;  very 
violent  gale. 

lh.  36m.  p.  m. 

643.16 

31.0 

89.5 

5,020 

At  the  top  of  the  peninsula;  blue 
sky,  with  scattered  fleecy 
clouds;  heavy  near  the  hori- 
zon; wind  S.  20°  E. 

il 

6h.  50m.  a.  m. 

652.04 

13.0 

53.0 

4,360 

The  whole  sky  covered  with 
rainy  clouds;  thunder,  light- 
ning, and  rain,  almost  all  the 
night. 

Sh.  a.  m. 

652.57 

14.2 

58.0 

4,363 

Clearing  up;  calm. 

9h.  a.  m. 

652.65 

11.9 

53.0 

4,354 

Strong  wind  from  N.  25°  E,; 
rainy  clouds. 

lOh.  a.  m. 

653.01 

12.7 

55.0 

4,324 

Strong  wind  from  N.  25°  E.; 
rainy  clouds. 

1 lh.  a.  m. 

653.60 

13.7 

57.0 

4,313 

Strong  wind  from  N.  25°  E.; 
some  blue  sky. 

Noon 

653.62 

12.2 

54.0 

4,293 

Sky  covered  with  rainy  clouds; 
strong  wind  from  N.  25°  E. 

lh.  p.  m. 

654.06 

14.8 

60.9 

4,315 

Sky  covered  with  rainy  clouds; 
some  blue  sky. 

2h.  p.  m. 

655.33 

22.7 

80.0 

4,353 

More  clear  sky;  sun;  moderate 
wind  from  N.  25°  E.  Free 
thermometer  in  the  sun. 

571  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Date.  3 

Time. 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

Remarks. 

» 1843. 

Millim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

Sept.  11 

3h.  p.  m. 

655.88 

22.7 

64.0 

4,289 

Clear;  clouds  scattered;  moder- 
ate wind  from  N.  25°  E. 

4h.  p.  m. 

656.65 

21.8 

63.0 

I 4,247 

Clear;  clouds  scattered;  sun; 
moderate  wind  from  N.  25°  E. 

5h.  p.  m. 

656.76 

20.6 

60.2 

! 4,222 

Clear;  clouds  scattered;  sun; 
moderate  wind  from  N.  25°  E. 

Sunset 

655.50 

9.8 

52.2 

4,080 

Clear. 

12 

Sunrise 

657.56 

2.3 

33.0 

4,080 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

655.48 

9.2 

47.2 

4,119 

Clear  and  clouds;  calm. 

13 

Sunrise 

654.88 

3.0 

35.5 

4,119 

Clear  and  clouds;  calm. 

4h.  50m.  p.  m. 

657.51 

27.2 

82.0 

4,283 

Clear;  scattered  clouds;  sun; 
calm. 

Sunset 

656.76 

18.8 

66.5 

i 4,179 

Clear;  scattered  clouds;  sun; 
calm. 

14 

Sunrise 

655.12 

8.2 

46.4 

4,179 

| Clear;  few  scattered  clouds;  slight 
breeze  from  NVV. 

3h.  50m.  p.  m. 

651.38 

30.0 

80.0 

4,564 

| Clear  and  clouds;  sun;  moder- 
ate breeze  from  SE. 

Sunset 

650.25 

20.6 

67.5 

4,444 

Clear;  moderate  breeze  from  SE. 

15 

Sunrise 

648.28 

3.5 

37.5 

4,444 

Clear;  horizon  partly  covered 
with  cumuli;  air  from  NW. 

3h.  43m.  p.  m. 

640.15 

30.3 

83.0 

5,081 

Clear  and  scattered  clouds;  sun; 
fresh  wind  from  S. 

Sunset 

638.80 

22.6 

74.0 

5,028 

Clear  and  scattered  clouds;  sun; 
fresh  wind  from  S. 

16 

Sunrise 

637.07 

11.1 

52.0 

5,028 

Calm  and  clear. 

3h.  56m.  p.  m. 

604.04 

14.6 

58.0 

6,280 

Dividing  ridge,  10  feet  below  the 
summit;  violent  gale  from  N . 
65°  W.;  cumuli  in  same  quar- 
ter. 

| In  a valley  below  the  divide;  sky 
clear;  cold  wind  from  NW. 

6h.  20m.  p.  m. 

630.79 

11.1 

50.5 

5,144 

17 

6h.  9m.  a.  m - 

631.37 

— 5.5 

21.5 

5,144 

Sky  clear  and  calm. 

3h.  56m.  p.  m. 

642.85 

20.0 

65.2 

4,849 

Sky  clear;  wind  from  W. 

Sunset 

642.35 

15.0 

58.6 

4,667 

Sky  clear;  wind  from  W. 

18 

Sunrise 

643.43 

— 2.9 

25.1 

4,667 

Clear;  calm;  bank  of  fog  in  N. 

Sunset 

643.31 

16.4 

60  5 

4,779 

Fort  Hall;  clear  and  calm. 

19 

Sunset 

645.12 

6.3 

43.0 

4,764 

Sky  covered  with  rainy  dark 
clouds;  strong  wind  from  S. 
25°  W. 

20 

Sunrise 

645.81 

3.7 

34.0  1 

4,764 

Rain  and  snow  during  the  whole 
night;  wind  N. 

Oh.  13m.  p.  m. 

649.12 

8.6 

44.8 

i 

4,434 

Wind  N.;  sky  covered  with 
clouds. 

21 

Sunrise 

651.48 

— 0.2 

29.5  | 

4,239 

Clear  and  calm;  rain  last  night. 

9h.  50m.  a.  m. 

652.48 

12.0 

50.2 

4,342 

Clear  and  calm;  clouds  in  horizon. 

lOh.  50m.  a.  m. 
Sunset 

652.59 

619.94 

17.2 

9.5 

55.6  1 
48.0  ! 

4,387 

4,504 

Almost  cloudy  all  over;  airSE. 

122 

Sunrise 

646.00 

5 6 

41.0 

4,504 

Wind  S.;  overcast  with  rainy 
clouds;  begins  to  rain. 

Sunset 

646.39  * 

6.0 

42.5 

4,519 

Moderate  wind  from  S. ; sky  part- 
ly clear;  partly  covered  with 
rainy  clouds  for  the  greatest 
part  of  the  day. 

23 

Sunrise 

647.50 

0.8 

32.0 

4,519 

Calm ; overcast;  snow  falling 
thick. 

7h.  a.  m. 

647.76 

i 

6.1 

32.0 

1 

4,487 

1 

Calm;  overcast;  snow  falling 
thick. 

[ 174  ] 572 

Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Thermometer. 

Alti- 

Remarks. 

Date. 

Time. 

Barom. 

Attached. 

Free. 

tudes. 

1843. 

Millim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

Feet. 

Sept.  23 

8h.  a.  m. 

' 

C49.12 

12.8 

32.0 

4,463 

Calm;  overcast;  snow  falling 
thick. 

9h.  a.  m. 

- 

648.90 

10.2 

35.0  ! 

4,380 

Calm;  overcast;  snow  falling 

thick. 

lOh.  a.  m. 

_ 

648.31 

8.8 

40.0  | 

4,511 

Air  from  N.  20°  W.;  snow  fall- 

ing not  so  thick. 

llh.  a.  m. 

_ 

649.29 

18.3 

43.0 

4,531 

Heavy  wind  from  N. ; snow  turn- 

ed into  rain. 

Noon 

_ 

649.16 

17.8 

43.0 

4,534 

A little  rain;  somewhat  clearer 

in  the  N.  and  E.  horizon. 

lh.  p.  m. 

_ 

648.95 

20.2 

47.0 

4,566 

' More  clearing  up  in  that  comer; 

1 

a little  blue  spot. 

2h.  p.  m. 

- 

648.65 

16.4 

47.5 

4,567 

More  moderate;  no  rain;  more 

clear  sky  in  N. 

3h.  p.  ra. 

649.44 

18.6 

49.5 

4,554 

More  moderate;  no  rain;  more 

clear  sky  in  N. 

4h.  p.  m. 

_ 

649.43 

17.8 

49.5 

4,550 

More  moderate;  no  rain;  more 

clear  sky  in  N. 

5h.  p.  m. 

- 

649.50 

18.2 

49.5  1 

4,550 

Wind  N.;  sky  improving  from 

| 

NW.  to  NE. 

Sunset 

- 

649.99 

19.8 

45.5  I 

4,520 

Nearly  cairn;  clear  over  head; 

clouds  scattered. 

7h.  p.  m. 

_ 

649.80 

19.0 

45.0  | 

4,521 

Moderate  wind  from  N ; sky 

cloudy;  clear  spots  between. 

8h.  p.  m. 

- 

649.80 

i 17.0 

42.5  | 

4,499 

Air  from  N. ; sky  cloudy;  some 

clear  spots. 

9h.  p.  m. 

- 

651.14 

14.2 

41.0 

4,428 

More  clear. 

lOh.  p.  m. 

_ 

650.88 

! 12.9 

40.0 

4,422 

Cloudy;  a few  stars  peeping  out. 

llh.  p.  m. 

- 

650.94 

12.7 

37.0 

S 4,406 

Air  from  NE.;  sky  bright,  ex- 

cept in  E. 

Midnight 

- 

650.51 

8.6 

37.0 

4,403 

Air  from  NE. ; southern  sky 

| 

nearly  overcast;  northern  sky 
j partly  bright,  partly  covered 

I with  scattered  clouds. 

24 

Sunrise 

- 

651.55 

15.6 

35.0 

4,388 

1 Calm;  overcast;  clear  in  the  W. 

horizon. 

Noon 

- 

1 653.60 

13.0 

53.2 

4,357 

Breeze  from  S. ; sky  clear;  some 

scattered  clouds. 

Sunset 

- 

654.85 

1 10.5 

54.0 

4,240 

Clear;  breeze  from  S. 

25 

Sunrise 

- 

655.96 

15.7 

! 46.8 

4,240 

Clear;  gale  from  S. 

2h.  p.  m. 

- 

1 655.25 

17.8 

64.0 

4,297 

Clear  and  clouds;  sun;  wind  S. 

3h.  p.  m. 

_ 

654.69 

16.5 

61.5 

4,305 

Clear  and  clouds;  wind  S.  72°  E. 

4h.  p.  m. 

_ 

653.99 

1 15.6 

60.0 

4,324 

More  clouds. 

5h.  p.  m. 

653.62 

14.0 

57.0 

4,319 

More  clouds;  dark  in  the  W. 

Sunset 

- 

653.07 

i 12.8 

55.0 

4,252 

Almost  overcast. 

26 

6h.  20m.  a. 

m. 

653.39 

6.0 

1 40.2 

4,252 

! Cloudy;  clear;  rain  last  night; 

I wind  S.  25°  WT 

Noon 

- 

650.84 

9.8 

49.2 

4,340 

I Cloudy;  rainy  appearance;  fresh 

wind  from  SW. 

Sunset 

- 

654.28 

8.0 

i 44.5 

4,045 

Clouds  and  clear;  wind  sharp 

from  SW. 

27 

Sunrise 

- 

656.35 

| — 1.5 

24.0 

4,045 

Clear  and  calm;  white  frost  last 

night. 

Sunset 

- 

651.46 

8.0 

! 46.5 

4,367 

Overcast  with  clouds;  cold  wind 

from  SE. 

28 

Sunrise 

- 

646.16 

6.4 

40.0 

4,367 

Overcast  with  rainy  clouds;  slight 

breeze  from  S. 

Sunset 

- 

654.60 

6.8 

45.0 

3,990 

Gale  from  S.  70°  W.;  clouds 

1 

and  clear;  thunder  in  N. 

573  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  meteorological  observations — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Barom. 

Thermometer. 

Alti- 
| tudes. 

Remarks. 

Attached.  Free. 

1843. 

i Millim. 

Cent. 

Fahr. 

1 Feet. 

Sept.  29 

Sunrise 

- 

! 660.54 

4.2 

36.4 

\ 3,990 

Cloudy  and  clear  overhead;  wind 

S.  70°  W. 

30 

Sunrise 

- 

663.35 

12.0 

28.5 

3,727 

Light  clouds;  air  from  SE. 

Sunset 

- 

682.21 

18.6 

65.5 

3,173 

Clear;  few  clouds;  wind  squally 

from  W. 

Oct.  1 

Sunrise 

- 

, 677.10 

19.5 

55.5 

3,173 

Clear;  wind  from  W. 

Sunset 

- 

1 688.21 

21.8 

74.0 

' 2,761 

Clear  and  calm. 

2 

Sunrise 

- 

i 689.56 

16.0 

48.0 

2,761 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

- 

681.90 

20.5 

70.0 

2,902 

Clear  and  calm. 

3 

Sunrise 

- 

684.81 

20.2 

42.0 

2,902 

Air  from  S.  65°  E.;  light  clouds 

and  clear. 

4 

Sunrise 

- 

i 689.87 

14.2 

47.0 

2,649 

Calm;  cumuli;  clear. 

Sunset 

- 

673.04 

13.0 

57.5 

3,172 

Cloudy;  gale  from  NW. 

5 

Sunrise 

- 

677.65 

— 0.2 

32  0 

3,172  1 

Calpi  and  clear. 

Sunset 

- 

672.65 

9.2 

47.0 

3,226 

Overcast;  wind  NW. 

6 

Sunrise 

- 

675.99 

7.7 

46.0 

3,226 

Overcast;  rainy  appearance; 

wind  from  NW. 

Sunset 

- 

; 678.41 

10.7 

50.8 

3,061 

Clear;  some  scattered  cumuli; 

sun;  wind  NW. 

7 

Sunrise 

- 

679.09 

7.9 

45.5 

3,061 

| Clear;  wind  NW. 

Sunset 

- 

698.91 

14.8 

57.0 

2,302 

O' lear;  breeze  from  NW. 

8 

Sunrise 

_ 

697.85 

4.8 

38.2 

2,302 

1 Calm  and  clear. 

Sunset 

- 

702.65 

16.9 

62.0 

2,197 

Calm;  clear,  but  cloudy  in  the 

1 

horizon. 

9 

Sunrise 

- 

! 699.76 

2.3 

j 36.0 

2,197  | 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

- 

j 702.26 

: 20.6 

1 68.5 

2,192 

Clear  and  scattered  cumuli;  calm. 

10 

Sunrise 

_ 

! 704.11 

8.3 

! 43.0 

2,192  | 

Clear  over  head;  cumuli  in  the 

1 

horizon;  calm. 

Sunset 

. 

! 706.21 

17.3 

62.5 

1,998 

Clear  and  calm . 

11 

Sunrise 

_ 

706.44 

0.8 

310 

1,998 

Clear;  air  from  E . 

Sunset 

- 

7U6.85 

19.2 

64.0 

2,000 

Clear  and  calm;  few  scattered 

cumuli . 

12 

Sunrise 

- 

704.78 

I —4.3 

I 23.0 

2,000  1 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

709.43 

17.2 

j 62.0 

1,879  ! 

Clear  and  calm. 

13 

Sunrise 

709.08 

— 0.8 

' 28.8 

1,879 

Clear;  few  cumuli;  air  from  W, 

Sunset 

- 

! 703.46 

15.5 

59.0 

2, 144 

Clear  and  light  clouds;  calm. 

14 

Sunrise 

705.46 

9.0 

46.0 

2,144 : 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

! 684.68 

10.8 

50  0 ! 

2,802  i 

Clear  and  calm. 

15 

Sunrise 

_ 

685.25 

5.0 

40.0 

2,802  ; 

Clear;  few  light  clouds;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

678.00 

! 16.2 

61.0 

3,100 

Clear,  and  some  cumuli;  calm . 

16 

Sunrise 

_ 

674.73 

— 6.6 

16.0 

3,100  ; 

Calm;  clear,  with  few  cumuli. 

Sunset 

_ 

676.85 

16.0 

60.8 

3,092  1 

Wind  E, ; clear  and  clouds. 

17 

Sunrise 

_ 

677.66 

— 2.3 

25.0 

3,092  | 

Clear  and  clouds;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

682  34 

17.0 

62.5 

2,940  ; 

Cloudy;  wind  SE. 

18 

Sunrise 

_ 

684.65 

18.6 

! 48.0 

2,940  | 

Overcast;  rain  began  an  hour  be- 

fore sunrise;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

690.40 

10.0 

47.0 

2,607  ! 

Cloudy;  rain  in  the  morning;  air 

from  N . 

19 

Sunrise 

- 

688.72 

3.5 

35.0 

2,607  j 

Misty;  dew  point  = 32°  .5  Fahr,; 

calm. 

1 Oh.  44  m.  p.  m, 

688.72 

12.4 

52.0 

2,700 

At  the  foot  of  Blue  mountains. 

Sunset 

_ 

657.20  l 

7.6 

46.5 

3,831  ! 

Blue  mountains. 

20 

Sunrise 

_ 

659.61 

4.3 

37.5 

3,831  1 

Clear  and  calm;  a bank  of  clouds 

in  SE.  horizon. 

8h.  26m.  a.  m. 

636.82 

10.6 

47.6 

4,766  | 

Blue  mountains. 

Sunset 

_ 

628.54 

2.8 

36.3 

4,989  | 

Blue  mountains;  clear  and  calm, 

21 

Sunrise 

- 

628.65 

0.8 

30.0 

4,989 

Blue  mountains;  clear  and  calm. 

[ 174  ] 


574 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer. 


Date, 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Remarks. 

1843. 

Deg.  Fahr. 

Oct.  27 

Sunrise 

- 

Fort  Walahwalah. 

Sunset 

66.0 

28 

Sunrise 

52.0 

Sunset 

59.0 

29 

Sunrise 

38.0 

Sunset 

50.0 

30 

Sunrise 

28.0 

Sunset 

53.0 

31 

Sunrise 

24.0 

Sunset 

54,0 

Nov.  1 

Sunrise 

34.0 

Sunset 

56.3 

2 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Sunset 

46.0 

3 

Sunrise 

32.0 

Sunset 

44.0 

4 

Sunrise 

30.0 

Sunset 

52.0 

5 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Sunset 

50.0 

6 

Sunrise 

34.0 

7 

Sunset 

49.0 

8 

Sunrise 

42,0 

12 

Sunrise 

44.0 

Sunset 

50.0 

13 

Sunrise 

42.0 

Sunset 

51.5 

23 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Sunset  - j 

41.0 

24  | 

Sunrise  - j 

38.0 

Sunset  - ! 

40.5 

25 

Sunrise 

26.0 

26 

Sunrise 

20.0 

27  1 

Sunrise  - 1 

— 2.5 

Sunset  - j 

28.0 

28  j 

Sunrise 

18.0 

Sunset 

28.0 

29 

Sunrise 

21.0 

30 

Sunrise 

37.0 

Sunset 

30.0 

Dec.  1 

Sunrise 

32.0 

Sunset 

42,0 

2 

Sunrise 

28.0  ^ 

Sunset 

34.0 

3 

Sunrise 

18  5 

4 

Sunrise 

19.6 

Sunset 

34.0 

6 

Sunrise 

38.0 

Sunset 

28.2 

6 

Sunrise 

26.0 

Sunset 

40.0 

7 

Sunset  - | 

42.0 

8 

Sunrise 

10.0 

Sunset  - ! 

42.0 

9 

Sunrise  - i 

21.0 

Sunset  - j 

39.0 

10 

Sunrise  - j 

10.0 

Sunset  - j 

38.5 

11 

Sunrise  - j 

18.5 

Sunset  - ' 

39.5 

12 

Sunrise 

32.0 

575  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Remarks. 

1843. 

Deg.  Fahr. 

Dec.  12 

Sunset 

- 

39.5 

13 

Sunrise 

_ 

0.0 

Sunset 

26.0 

14 

Sunrise 

10.0 

Sunset 

- 

32.0 

15 

Sunrise 

- 

25.0 

Sunset 

36.0 

16 

Sufirise 

- 

32.0 

17 

Sunrise 

_ 

39.0 

Sunset 

_ 

52.0 

18 

Sunrise 

- 

34.0 

Sunset 

48.0 

19 

Sunrise 

. 

29.0 

Sunset 

- 

46.0 

20 

Sunrise 

. 

36.0 

Sunset 

- 

39.0 

21 

Sunrise 

. 

33.0 

« 

Sunset 

_ 

43.0 

Spring  61°;  brisk  SE.  wind  all  day. 

22 

Daylight 

- 

39.0 

Wind  S. ; overcast. 

23 

Daylight 

- 

38.0 

Sunset 

- 

39.0 

Cloudy;  little  rain. 

24 

Daylight 

- 

31.0 

Sunset 

- 

37.0 

Fair  day;  light  breeze  from  S. 

25 

Daylight 

- 

32.0 

Sunset 

- 

33.0 

Wind  S.,  fair. 

26 

Daylight 

- 

22.0 

Clouds  rising  around  the  horizon. 

Sunset 

- 

30.0 

Cloudy;  light  SE.  wind. 

27 

Daylight 

- 

20.0 

Clear;  wind  SB. 

Sunset 

- 

23.0 

Calm;  sun  faint. 

28 

Daylight 

- 

18.0 

Calm;  reddish  clouds. 

Sunset 

- 

34.0 

Gentle  SE.  breeze. 

29 

Daylight 

- 

33.0 

Light  snow  falling. 

Sunset 

- 

19.0 

Clear;  wind  WSW. 

30 

Daylight 

- 

14.0 

Sunset 

- 

19.0 

Fair;  wind  S.  80°  W. 

31 

Daylight 

- 

17.0 

Sunset 

. 

27.0 

Fair;  moderate  SW.  wind. 

1844. 

Jan.  1 

Daylight 

- 

24.0 

Fair;  light  clouds  in  E. 

Sunset 

- 

28.0 

2 

Daylight 

- 

26.0 

Thick  snow  falling. 

3 

Daylight 

- 

20.0 

Heavy  mist. 

Sunset 

- 

23.0 

Still  misty. 

4 

7h.  12m. 

a.  m. 

20.0 

Sunset 

- 

24.0 

Dense  mist  all  day. 

5 

6h.  25m. 

a.  m. 

12.0 

Sunset 

- 

22.0 

Wind  NE. ; dense  mist,  as  on  the  two  previous  days. 

6 

Sunrise 

- 

8.0 

Mist  breaking  away;  clear  bright  sunshine. 

Sunset 

- 

21.0 

Clear;  nearly  calm. 

7 

7h.  12m. 

a.  m. 

6.0 

Slight  mist. 

Noon 

_ 

31.0 

Evening 

_ 

24.0 

Clear  sunset. 

8 

7h.  45m. 

a.  m. 

20.0 

Brisk  NE.  breeze;  bright  clouds  in  W. 

Noon 

_ 

35.0 

Evening 

- 

30.0 

Clear  wind  from  SW. — Temperature  of  the  main 

spring  at  its  edge  206°;  the  centre  is  doubtless  at 
the  boiling  point. 

9 

7k.  25m. 

a.  in. 

23.0 

Sunset 

_ 

33.0 

A little  snow  falling. 

10 

7h.  15m. 

a.  m. 

22.0 

Sunset 

- 

29.0 

Overcast. 

576 


C 174  ] 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Remarks. 

1844. 

De g.  Fahr. 

Jan.  11 

SunrisiT 

15.0 

Sunset 

20.0 

Day  fair;  bright  sun. 

12 

Sunrise 

33.0 

Sunset 

28.0 

Partially  overcast;  wind  SW, 

13 

Sunrise 

29.0 

Overcast;  wind  S.  20°  E. 

Sunset 

31.0 

Snow  falling  thick;  wind  variable. 

14 

Sunrise 

26.0 

28.0 

Nearly  clear;  wind  N.  10°  W. 

Temperature  of boiling  water  204°  .4 ; wind  N.  6°  W. 

Sunset 

26.0 

Cloudy;  snow  falling;  wind  W. 

15 

Sunrise 

31.0 

Sunset 

34.0 

Clear;  fair. 

16 

Sunrise 

34.0 

Sunset 

35  0 

Fair;  light  wind  N.  50°  W.  all  day. 

17 

Sunrise 

17.0 

Sunset 

42.0 

Calm;  sun  bright. 

18 

Sunrise 

28.0 

Reddish  clouds  in  E. 

3h.  14m.  p.  m. 
Sunset 

49.5  . 
39.0 

Temperature  of boiling  water  303°  .7 ; winds.  20°  W. 

19 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

37.0 

35.0 

Snow  falling  from  9h.  till  1 lh.  a.  m. ; sun  faint. 

20 

Sunrise 

14.0 

Oh.  55m.  p.  m. 

41.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  204°.  3;  wind  W. 

Sunset 

32.0 

Overcast;  wind  SW. 

21 

Sunrise 

30.0 

Snow  falling  fast  from  SW.;  snow  ceased  at  lOh.  a. 
m. ; sun  shone  out. 

Sunset 

29.0 

Calm;  clear  sky. 

22 

Sunrise 

30.0 

Wind  S.  25°  W.;  clouds  rising  in  horizon;  light 
snow  falling  from  9h.  a.  m.  to  lh.  p.  m. 

4h.  5m  p.  m.  - 

37  0 

i Temperature  of  boiling  water  204°. 2;  wind  high  from 
| SW. 

Sunset 

36.0 

Sky  clear;  high  SW.  wind. 

23 

Sunrise 

40.0 

Moderate  W.  wind;  dark  clouds  in  N. 

Sunset 

42.0 

Calm;  sky  nearly  clear. 

24 

Sunrise 

45.0 

! Sunset 

36.0 

Sky  clear;  sun  bright. 

25 

Sunrise 

2.0 

Fair  day;  nearly  calm. 

26 

Sunrise 

2.0 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

llh.  15m.  a.  m. 
Sunset 

30.0 

47.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  282°. 2;  calm 

27 

Sunrise 

12.0 

Sunset 

33.0 

Sky  unclouded  all  the  day. 

4h.  25m.  p.  m. 

34.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  202°;  light  breeze  from 
NW. 

28 

Sunrise 

27-0 

Sunset 

40.0 

Clear;  sun  bright;  moderate  SE.  wind. 

29 

Sunrise 

34.0 

Reddish  clouds  in  horizon  to  E.  and  N.;  wind  SE. 

30 

Sunrise 

31.0 

Calm  and  cloudy. 

Sunset 

39.0 

Clouds  breaking  away. 

31 

Sunrise 

25.0 

Cumuli  in  SE.  and  N. 

Feb.  1 

Sunrise 

27.0 

Overcast;  snow  falling. 

Noon 

Sunset 

40.0 

24.0 

Snowing  all  day. 

2 

Sunrise 

24.0 

Sunset 

35.0 

Calm;  clear;  bright  sunshine. 

6h.  15m.  p.  m. 

31.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  201°.  5;  calm. 

3 

Sunrise 

14.0 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

26.0 

Overcast. 

3h.  45m.  p.  m. 

28.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  201°.5;  nearly  calm. 

4 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

20.0 

40.0 

Light  white  clouds  in  E. 

9h.  p.  m. 

12.0 

Strong  SW.  wind. 

577  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Remarks. 

1844. 

Deg.  Fahr. 

Feb.  5 

Sunrise 

10.0 

Noon 

Sunset 

48.0 

24.0 

Clear  5 moderate  S.  wind. 

6 

Sunrise 

16  0 

Sky  unclouded;  light  breeze  SW. 

Noon 

Sunset 

37.0 

26.0 

Sky  unclouded;  calm. 

Oh.  25m.  p.  m.  - 

37.5 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  200°.  5;  calm. 

7 

Sunrise 

9.5 

Sunset 

28.0 

Sky  perfectly  clear  the  whole  day;  light  variable  wind. 

8 

Sunrise 

— 2.5 

— 2.0 
0.0 

Sun  shining  full  on  high  peaks. 

Sun  shining  full  on  valley;  sky  cloudless;  calm. 

3h.  40m.  p.  m.  - 

38.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  199°.  7;  light  easterly 
breeze;  nearly  clear. 

Sunset 

36.0 

Wind  east;  whitish  clouds  rising  in  the  horizon. 

9 

28.5 

Just  before  sunrise. 

Sunrise 

29.0 

Strong  SW.  wind;  light  scud,  driving  rapidly. 

Noon 

44.0 

Moderate  W'SW.  wind;  nearly  clear;  a few  wind 
clouds  in  W. 

Sunset 

24.0 

Wind  variable;  nearly  clear;  a few  wind  clouds  in  W. 

10 

36.0 

30m.  before  sunrise. 

35.0 

Nearly  calm;  cloudy  in  SW. 

Noon 

42.0 

Wind  SE.;  white  clouds  in  W. 

Oh.  55m.  p.  m.  - 

42.5 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  199°.  5;  moderate 
SE.  wind;  sky  nearly  clear. 

Sunset 
.8h.  p.  m. 

37.0 

39.0 

Moderate  SE.  wind;  sky  partially  overcast. 

11 

Sunrise 

33.0 

Entirely  overcast;  wind  shifting. 

Noon 

35.0 

Clouds  breaking  away;  violent  gusts  of  wind  from  W. 
Clearing  off;  moderate  wind  N.  80°  W. 

Sunset 

33.5 

12 

Sunrise 

32.5 

Calm;  sky  nearly  clear. 

Sunset 
8h.  p.  m. 

35.0 

33.0 

Sky  clear;  gentle  W.  breeze. 

13 

34.0 

30m.  before  sunrise. 

Sunrise 

33.0 

Calm;  cumuli  in  E. ; sun  faint. 

Sunset 

35.0 

Overcast;  calm. 

14 

Sunrise 

21.0 

Sky  clear;  moderate  westerly  wind. 

Sunset 

32.5 

Calm;  sky  nearly  clear. 

15 

- 

31.0 

Calm;  clouds  in  SW.;  sun  faint. 

Uil  L IOC- 

Noon 

41.0 

Calm;  watery  clouds  moving  from  SW'.  to  NE. 

Sunset 

31.5 

Calm;  sky  nearly  clear. 

16 

Sunrise 

30.0 

Wind  SW.;  rain  clouds  in  E. 

Sunset 

33.0 

Clear;  moderate  S.  wind. 
Entirely  clear;  calm. 

17 

Sunrise 

23.0 

Sunset 

32.0 

Entirely  clear;  calm. 

18 

Sunrise 

22.5 

Sky  very  clear;  nearly  calm. 

Sunset 

31.0 

Calm;  rain  clouds  in  W. 

19 

Sunrise 

23.0 

Cloudless  sky;  calm. 

Sunset 

32.0 

Cloudless  sky;  gentle  breeze  S.  60°  E. 

20 

Sunrise 

22.0 

Clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

37.0 

Sky  clear;  brisk  wind  S.  70°  W . 

lh.  41m.  p.  m.  - 

47.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  197°. 5;  moderate 
wind  S.  68°  W. 

21 

Sunrise 

32.0 

Moderate  W.  wind;  scattered  watery  clouds. 

Noon 

46.0 

Cumuli  all  over  the  heavens;  nearly  calm;  snow 
falling  on  the  mountains  behind ; rain  on  the  edge 
of  the  valley  beyond. 

| Sunset 

30.0 

Sky  still  cloudy;  strong  breeze  N.  65°  E. 

37 


[ 174  ] 578 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Remarks. 

1844. 

Deyr.  Fahr. 

Sun  faint;  moderate  wind  N.  55°  E. 

Feb.  22 

Sunrise 

29.0 

Noon 

400 

Light  watery  clouds  in  S.;  wind  N.  40°  E. 

lh.  15m.  p.  m.  - 

37.5 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  198°.  7;  watery  clouds 
in  S. ; calm. 

Sunset 

31.0 

Sky  nearly  calm;  wind  N.  50°  E. 

123 

Sunrise 

26.0 

Cumuli  around  the  horizon;  moderate  S.  wind. 

Sunset 

48.0 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

24 

Sunrise 

27.0 

Sky  clear;  wind  E. 

2h.  45m.  p.  m.  - 

60.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  206°;  sky  clear-,  light 
breeze  from  N. 

March  9 

Sunset 

62  0 

Light  grayish  clouds  in  S. ; moderate  SE.  wind. 

10 

Sunrise 

34.0 

Light  grayish  clouds;  sky  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

63.0 

Sky  cloudy;  wind  SW. 

4h.  20m.  p.  m.  - 

64.0 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  211°. 6;  brisk  S„ 

- 

wind;  sky  nearly  clear. 

11 

Sunrise 

45.0 

Sky  partially  overcast;  slight  rain  falling. 

Sunset 

56.0 

Sky  clear;  no  air  stirring. 

12 

Sunrise 

31.0 

Sky  unclouded;  calm. 

Sunset 

63.0 

Clear  sky;  brisk  SW.  wind. 

13 

Sunrise 

35.0 

No  clouds  visible;  calm.  f 

Noon 

75.0 

Strong  westerly  breeze. 

Sunset 

68.0 

Light  watery  clouds  floating  in  hor.,  wind  from  NW , 

14 

Sunrise 

45.0 

Moderate  wind  N.  10°  W. ; unclouded. 

Sunset 

76.0 

Clear;  perfectly  calm. 

15 

Sunrise 

44.0 

Calm  and  cloudless. 

Sunset 

74.0 

Reddish  clouds  around  the  setting  sun. 

16 

Sunrise 

Noon 

40.0 

84.0 

No  wind;  sky  clear. 

Sunset 

58.0 

No  air  stirring;  clear. 

17 

Sunrise 

46.0 

Sky  clear;  calm- 

Sunset 

63.0 

Slight  haze  in  N. ; calm. 

18 

Sunrise 

38.0 

Clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

64.0 

Clear;  calm. 

19 

Sunrise 

41.0 

Sky  unclouded;  no  wind. 

Sunset 

68.0 

Few  scattering  clouds  in  W. 

20 

Sunrise 

40.0 

Calm;  unclouded. 

Noon 

81.0 

In  shade;  white  clouds  in  E. 

Noon 

96.0 

In  sun;  slight  breeze  N.  10°  E. 

Sunset 

70.0 

Clear  sky ; no  wind. 

21 

Sunrise 

41.0 

Sky  cloudy;  calm. 

Sunset 

64.0 

Dark  clouds  in  E. ; wind  N.  70°  W, 

22 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Scattered  wind  clouds;  wind  W. 

Sunset 

64.0 

Very  cloudy;  winds.  10°  E. 

23 

Sunrise 

44.0 

Sky  nearly  clear;  moderate  SW.  wind', 

Sunset 

63.0 

Reddish  clouds  in  W. ; wind  SW. 

24 

Sunrise 

42.0 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

54.0 

Clear;  wind  S.  80°  W. 

25 

Sunrise 

45.0 

Cloudy  in  E.;  sun  faint;  calm. 

Sunset 

63.0 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  gentle  westerly  breeze. 

26 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Sun  faint;  partially  overcast. 

Sunset 

58.0 

Calm;  nearly  clear. 

27 

Sunrise 

45.0 

Sky  overcast;  no  wind. 

Sunset 

60.0 

Very  cloudy;  appearance  of  rain;  high  W.  wmo 

28 

Sunrise 

44.0 

Calm;  clear. 

29 

Sunrise 

36.0 

Few  dark  clouds  in  E. ; calm. 

Sunset 

60.0 

Cloudy;  sun  faint. 

30 

Sunrise 

53.0 

Overcast;  slight  rain  falling. 

Noon 

55.0 

Incessant  rain;  moderate  wind  S.  15°  W 

Sunset 

56.0 

Sky  clouded;  wind  SW. 

31 

Sunrise 

Noon 

54.0 

62.0 

Heavy  rain;  wind  S.  80°  W0 

579  [ 174  ] 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Wet  bulb. 

Remarks. 

1844. 
Mar.  31 

Sunset 

Deg.  Fahr. 
58.0 

Deg. 

Clearing  off;  wind  SW. 

April  1 

Sunrise 

_ 

52.0 

- 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

60.0 

- 

Dark  clouds  coming  up  in  W. ; calm. 

2 

Sunrise 

_ 

48.0 

- 

Cloudy;  light  easterly  wind. 

Noon 

62.0 

- 

Rain  from  SW.;  overcast. 

Sunset 

_ 

54.0 

_ 

Brisk  wind  S.  15°  E.;  clearing  off. 

3 

Sunrise 

_ 

43.0 

Sky  nearly  clear;  wind  E. 

Sunset 

56.0 

_ 

Few  clouds  in  SE.;  strong  breeze  N. 

4 

Sunrise 

41.0 

60°  W. 

Slight  rain  falling;  wind  S,  60°  W. 

Sunset 

_ 

60.0 

Raining;  wind  from  SW* 

5 

Sunrise 

_ 

37.0 

- 

Sky  clear,  calm. 

Sunset 

68.0 

. - 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

6 

Sunrise 

35.0 

- 

Sky  cloudless;  no  wind. 

Noon 

90.0 

_ v . 

In  shade. 

Noon 

_ 

98.0 

- 

In  sun;  sky  nearly  clear;  light  SE. 

Sunset 

72.0 

breeze. 

Wind  S.  40°  E.;  cloudy  in  NE. 

7 

Sunrise 

49.0 

Raining;  overclouded. 

8 

Sunrise 

_ 

35  0 

L 

Wind  N.  60°  W ; sky  nearly  clear. 

• 

Sunset 

_ 

52.0 

Heavy  clouds  in  W. ; moderate  wind  S. 

9 

Sunrise 

38.0 

80°  W. 

Sky  clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

52.0 

Dark  cumuli  in  W. ; light  breeze  N.  55° 

10 

Sunrise 

36.0 

W. 

Perfectly  clear;  no  air  stirring. 

Sunset 

56.0 

— 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

11 

Sunrise 

37.0 

~ 

Sky  overcast;  calm. 

Sunset 

57.0 

_ 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  high  wind  in  N,  45° 

12 

Sunrise 

32-0 

W. 

Smoky;  sun  faint;  calm. 

Sunset 

62.0 

Dense,  smoke;  sun  obscured. 

13 

Sunrise 

- 

45.0 

- 

Smoky  appearance  continues;  sun  faint. 

Sunset 

52.0 

_ 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

14 

Sunrise 

40.0 

- 

Clear  and  calm. 

Sunset 

53.0 

_ ' 

Moderate  wind  N.  80°  W. ; clear. 

15 

Sunrise 

40.0 

>_ 

Clear  sky;  no  wind. 

Sunset 

56.0 

_ 

High  wind  S.  15°  E.;  unclouded. 

16 

Sunrise 

48  0 

_ 

Clear;  moderate  wind  S.  20°  E. 

Sunset 

54.0 

. _ 

Brisk  breeze  S.  30°  E.;  clear. 

17 

Sunrise 

_ 

40.0 

_ 

Moderate  wind  S.  30°  E.;  cloudy  in  E. 

18 

Sunrise 

J 

52.0 

_ 

Masses  of  clouds  over  the  sky;  light 

Sunset 

48.0 

breeze  S.  60°  W. 

Clouds  over  setting  sun;  wind  S.  80°  W. 

19 

Sunrise 

- i 

30.0 

_ 

Moderate  wind  S.  80°  W. ; sky  nearly 

Sunset 

54.9 

clear. 

Sky  overcast;  clouds  in  N W. ; wind  S. 

20 

Sunrise 

47.0 

60°  W. 

Dark  cumuli  in  E.;  moderate  wind  S. 

21 

Sunrise 

47.0 

70°  W. 

Dense  mist  greater  part  of  the  day;  cold 
SW.  wind. 

Hazy;  sun  faint;  strong  wind  N.  80°  W. 

Noon 

_ 

74.0 

_ 

In  shade. 

Noon 

82.0 

- 

In  sun;  sky  clear;  wind  N.  80°  W. 

Sunset 

53.0 

_ 

Sky  clear;  brisk  wind  N.  80°  W. 
Perfectly  clear;  gentle  westerly  breeze. 

22 

Sunrise 

47.0 

Sunset 

60.0 

_ 

Bright  sunset;  moderate  west  wind. 

Sunset 

. _ 

- 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  208°5. 

23 

Sunrise 

38.5 

38.0 

Clear,  except  in  E. ; cold  wind  N.  70°  W. 

Sunset 

- 

54.0 

50.0 

Sky  covered  with  watery  cl’ds;  wind  W. 

[ 174  ] 580 


Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Wet  bulb. 

Remarks. 

1844. 

Deg.  Fahr. 

Deg. 

April  24 

Sunrise 

- 

48.0 

45.0 

Clouds  in  E.;  moderate  W.  wind. 

Noon 

_ 

76.0 

69.0 

Clear;  brisk  wind  S.  80°  W. 

Sunset 

- 

66  0 

58.5 

Clouds  breaking  away  after  a sprinkling 

of  rain. 

25 

Sunrise 

61.5 

48.0 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

- 

62.0 

57.0 

Clouds  in  N.  calm. 

26 

Sunrise 

- 

42.0 

43.0 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Noon 

90-0 

85.0 

Sky  clear;  shifting  breeze. 

Sunset 

- 

80-5 

71.0 

Dark  clouds  in  the  N.,  calm. 

27 

Sunrise 

- 

44.0 

45.0 

Clear;  calm. 

Noon 

. 

90.5 

78.0 

Thin  white  clouds  in  horizon;  southerly 

breeze  at  intervals. 

28 

Sunrise 

- 

66.0 

59.5 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

- 

52.0 

48.5 

Heavy  clouds  in  NE . ; strong  wind  S. 

15°  W. 

29 

Sunrise 

- 

46.0 

47.5 

Scattered  clouds;  calm;  temperature  of 

spring  used  66°. 

Noon 

- 

69.0 

58.0 

Clouds;  wind  brisk  S.  30°  W. 

Sunset 

- 

57.0 

54.5 

Cloudy;  moderate  wind  S.  20°  W. 

30 

Sunrise 

- 

44.5 

43.0 

Cloudy  in  E. ; cold  wind  S.  80°  E. 

Sunset 

- 

60.5 

54.0 

Bright  sunset;  calm;  cumuli  <fn  near 

. 

mountains. 

May  1 

Sunrise 

- 

40  5 

42.0 

Very  clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

- 

56.0 

48.0 

Calm;  brilliant  sunset. 

2 

Sunrise 

32.0 

35.5 

Clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

55.5 

50.0 

Clear;  calm. 

3 

Sunrise 

_ 

30.0 

34.0 

Clear;  calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

67.0 

63.0 

Clear;  calm. 

4 

Sunrise 

- 

38.0 

41.5 

Clear;  light  breeze  N.  70°  W- 

52.0 

- 

rr  . f C Large  spring  73°. 

Temperature  of  \SmSlkr  spring  11°. 

5 

Sunrise 

- 

42.0 

41.0 

Ciear;  calm- 

Noon 

- 

104  0 

85.0 

Clear;  breeze  at  intervals. 

Sunset 

- 

56.0 

50.0 

Clear;  shifting  breeze. 

Sunrise 

- 

41.0 

40.0 

Clear;  calm. 

6h.  20m.  p. 

m. 

70.0 

, - 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  205°.  7. 

Sunset 

- 

70.5 

69.0 

7 

Sunrise 

- 

42.0 

40.0 

Light  white  clouds  in  E. ; calm. 

Sunset 

_ 

76.0 

67.0 

Clear;  calm. 

8 

Sunrise 

- 

42.5 

42.0 

Calm;  slight  haze. 

Sunset 

_ 

76-0 

69.0 

Clear;  moderate  wind  S.  40°  W. 

9 

Sunrise 

- 

68.0 

56.5 

Clouds  in  E. ; calm. 

70.0 

- 

Temperature  of  spring  76°. 

Noon 

- 

94.0 

85.5 

Large  masses  of  white  cloud  in  NE . , 

high  wind  S.  70°  W. 

Sunset 

- 

70.0 

60.0 

Clear;  slight  breeze  S.  75°  W. 

10 

Sunrise 

- 

35.0 

41.5 

Clear;  calm. 

35.0 

- 

Temperature  of  river  48°. 

Sunset 

- 

56.0 

53.0 

Clear;  nearly  calm. 

11 

Sunrise 

53.5 

52.0 

Sky  mottled  with  dark  purple  clouds; 

moderate  wind  N.  80°  W. ; shower  of 
rain  between  6h.  and  7h.  a.  m. 

Sunset 

- 

53.0 

50.0 

Dark  clouds  over  the  sky ; brisk  wind  N. 

10°  E. 

12 

Sunrise 

- 

44.0 

45.5 

Eastern  sky  clouded;  breeze  N.  15°  E. 

70.0 

- 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  203°. 8; 

few  white  clouds  on  blue  sky;  moder- 
ate wind  N.  40°  E. 

Sunset 

- 

46.0 

45.0 

Clear;  -calm. 

13 

Sunrise 

- 

31.5 

33.0 

Sky  perfectly  clear;  calm- 
Bright  sunset;  southerly  breeze. 

Sunset 

- 

56.0 

53.0 

581  [ 174  ] 

Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer— Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer. 

Wet  bulb. 

1844. 
May  14 

Sunrise 

Deg.  Fahr. 
42.0 

Deg. 

41.5 

Noon 

- 

83.0 

68  5 

Sunset 

55.0 

50.0 

15 

Sunrise 

41.5 

41.0 

Sunset 

- 

61.0 

58.0 

16 

Sunrise 

. 

32.0 

32.5 

Sunset 

- 

52.0 

48.0 

17 

Sunrise 

_ 

33.0 

36.0 

Sunset 

- 

52.0 

48.0 

18 

Sunrise 

45.0 

42.5 

Noon 

- 

48.0 

52.0 

Sunset 

_ 

53.0 

50.5 

19 

Sunrise 

29.5 

32.0 

Sunset 

_ 

50.0 

48  0 

20 

Sunrise 

- 

39.0 

39.0 

Noon 

- 

88.5 

Sunset 

48.5 

47.5 

21 

Sunrise 

- 

45.5 

46.5 

Sunset 

- 

70.0 

61.0 

22 

Sunrise 

_ 

56.0 

52.0 

Sunset 

- 

55.0 

50.0 

23 

Sunrise 

- 

44.0 

43.5 

Sunset 

45.0 

41.0 

24 

Sunrise 

41.5 

42.5 

Sunset 

- 

47.5 

48.0 

25 

Sunrise 

- 

30.5 

36.0 

Sunset 

- 

65.0 

62.0 

26 

Sunrise 

44  0 

45.5 

Sunset 

_ 

64.0 

60.0 

27 

Sunrise 

_ 

44.0 

46.0 

Sunset 

_ 

45.0 

46,0 

28 

Sunrise 

_ 

35.0 

39.5 

Sunset 

- 

46.0 

46.5 

29 

Sunrise 

- 

29.5 

33.0 

Oh.  15m.  p. 

m. 

66.0 

Sunset 

45;  0 

45.5 

30 

Sunrise 

- 

36.0 

35.0 

Sunset 

- 

58.0 

54.5 

31 

Sunrise 

_ 

31.5 

36.0 

Sunset 

- 

54.0 

53.5 

June  1 

Sunrise 

_ 

48.5 

49.0 

Sunset 

- 

62.0 

50.0 

2 

Sunrise 

. 

46.0 

45.0 

Sunset 

- 

64.0 

58.0 

3 

Sunrise 

_ 

42.0 

41.0 

4 

Sunrise 

_ 

43.0 

42.0 

Sunset 

- 

66.0 

62.0 

5 

Sunrise 

- 

48.0 

47.0 

Sunset 

_ 

68.0 

62.0 

6 

Sunrise 

. 

44.5 

44.5 

Sunset 

- 

72.0 

61.0 

Remarks. 


Clear;  moderate  wind  S.  30°  W. 

White  bank  of  clouds  in  N. ; strong  wind  S. 
30°  W. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  wind  high,  S.  30°  W. 
Scattered  clouds;  calm. 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  moderate  S.  wind. 

Nearly  clear;  wind  S. 

Very  cloudy;  few  drops  of  rain;  high  N. 
wind. 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  calm. 

Very  cloudy;  appearance  of  rain;  wind  S. 
70°  W. 

Overcast;  heavy  rain;  wind  S.  65°  W. 
Heavy  and  incessant  rain;  wind  S.  65°  W. 
Clearing  off;  wind  N.  30°  E. 

Nearly  clear;  wind  N.  20°  E. 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  calm. 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Temperature  6f  boiling  water  203°:  sky 
clear;  breeze  S.  30°  W. 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Very  cloudy;  mild  S.  wind. 

Reddish  clouds  in  E.;  brisk  S.  wind. 
Cloudy;  wind  S. 

Cloudy  in  horizon;  cold  S.  wind. 

Scattered  clouds;  calm. 

Sky  overcast;  few  drops  of  rain. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  calm;  Utah  lake. 

Sky  overcast;  calm. 

Very  cloudy;  high  wind  N.  20°  E. 

Clouded;  appearance  of  rain;  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  clear. 

Clear;  calm. 

Sky  very  clear;  calm. 

Clear  and  calm 

Station  on  Uintah  waters,  1,500  feet  below 
the  pass  in  the  dividing  ridge  between  the 
waters  of  White  and  Uintah  rivers;  tem- 
perature of  boiling  water  201°. 3;  sky 
very  clear  and  calm. 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  no  air  stirring. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clouded  inE.;  calm. 

Very  cloudy;  sprinkling  of  rain;  brisk  wind 
N.  70°  W. 

Scattered  clouds;  calm. 

Clouds  in  horizon;  moderate  wind  N.  30° 
W. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Clear  and  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  calm- 
Clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clear;  moderate  wind  N.  45°  E. 


[ 174  ] 582 

Table  of  observations  with  the  thermometer — Continued. 


Date. 

Time. 

Thermometer 

. VVetbulb. 

1844. 

Deg.  Fahr. 

Deg. 

une  6 

7h.  45m.  p.  m. 

71.0 

7 

Sunrise 

52.0 

50.0 

Sunset 

75  0 

72.0 

8 

Sunrise 

45.0 

48.0 

Noon 

80.0 

75.0 

Sunset 

70.0 

68.0 

9 

Sunrise 

44.5 

44.0 

Sunset 

72.0 

68.0 

10 

Sunrise 

33.0 

38.0 

Sunset 

65.0 

59.0 

11 

Sunrise 

32.0 

37.5 

Sunset 

60.0 

57.0 

12 

Sunrise 

40.0 

42.0 

Sunset 

60.0 

57.0 

13 

Sunrise 

36.0 

38.0 

lh.  p.  m. 

76.5 

- 

14 

Sunrise 

44.0 

43.0 

Sunset 

76.0 

66.0 

15 

Sunrise 

42.0 

42.5 

Sunset 

54.5 

53.0 

16 

Sunrise 

34.0 

36.0 

Sunset 

51.0 

52.0 

17 

Sunrise 

29.0 

36.0 

18 

Sunrise 

42.0 

42  5 

19 

- 

63.0 

- 

Sunset 

68.0 

64.0 

20 

Sunrise 

30.0 

36.0 

Sunset 

49.5 

48.5 

21 

Sunrise 

40.0 

39.0 

Sunset 

60.5 

- 

22 

Noon 

76.0 

Sunset 

49.0 

49.0 

23 

Sunrise 

33.0 

34.0 

26 

Sunset 

46.0 

50.0 

27 

Sunrise 

38.0 

40.0  i 

Sunset 

62.0 

57.5 

28 

Sunrise 

42.0 

44.0  i 

Sunset 

74.0 

71.5  : 

29 

Sunrise 

44.0 

46.0  : 

Sunset 

74.5 

72.5  < 

30 

Sunrise 

56.0 

55  0 * 

Sunset 

78.5 

76.0  < 

tly  1 

Sunrise 

61.0 

61.0  i 

Sunset 

81.0 

80.0  i 

2 

Sunrise 

60.0 

60.0  ( 

Noon 

85.0 

84.0  1 

Sunset 

84.0 

80.0  1 

3 

Sunrise 

66.0 

66.5  1 

Remarks. 


Temperature  of  boiling  water  200°.  ? ; sky 
clear;  moderate  wind  N.  45°  E. 

Sky  clear;  moderate  wind  N.  45°  E. 
Temperature  of  boiling  water  204°;  very 
cloudy. 

Very  clear;  calm. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  moderate  wind  S.  80°  W. 
Dark  heavy  clouds  over  the  sky. 

Clear;  calm. 

Dark  clouds  in  the  western  horizon;  light 
breeze  S.  70°  W. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Clouds  in  horizon;  moderate  wind  N.  40° 
E. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  mottled  with  clouds;  moderate  wind  S. 
65°  W. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Few  clouds  in  W.;  moderate  wind  S.  40° 
W. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  199°.5;  calm; 

thin  white  clouds  in  horizon 
Sky  very  clear;  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  200°;  sky 
clear;  slight  westerly  breeze. 

Clear;  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  calm. 

Perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Temperature  of  boiling  water  20 1°.  6:  clear, - 
slight  westerly  breeze. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  calm. 

Slight  mist;  southerly  breeze. 

Sky  mottled  with  clouds;  shifting  breeze. 
Fork  of  Grand  river,  1,600  feet  below  the 
divide;  temperature  of  boiling  water 
195°. 8;  clear  southerly  breeze. 

Masses  of  white  clouds;  wind  variable. 

Sky  perfectly  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clear;  calm. 

Bright  sunset;  calm. 

Cloudless  sky;  calm. 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  shifting  breeze. 

Clear;  calm. 

Clouds  in  NE. ; moderate  wind  N.  60°  E. 
Sky  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear,  southerly  breeze. 

Clear;  calm. 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Dark  threatening  clouds  in  W.;  high  wind 
S.  50°  E. 

Masses  of  clouds  over  the  whole  sky  : calm- 


3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

12 

13 

14 

15 

16 

17 

18 


583 


[ 174  ] 

able  of  observations  with  the  thermometer—- Continued. 


Time. 


Thermometer. 


inset 

mrise 

inset 

mrise 

inset 

mrise 

inset 

mrise 

inset 

mrise 

oon 

inset 


unrise 

unset 

unrise 

unset 

unrise 

unset 

unrise 


unset 

unrise 

unset 

unset 

unrise 

Joon 

Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset 


Sunrise 

Sunset 

Sunrise 


Sunset 


Sunrise 


Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset 

Sunrise 

Sunset  (?) 

Sunrise 

2h.  p.  m. 

Sunrise 

2h.  p.  m. 

Sunrise 

2h.  p.  m. 

Sunrise 

2h.  p.  m. 

Sunrise 


Wet  bulb. 


Deg.  Fahr. 
80.0 

70.5 
82.0 
66.0 

62,0 

75.0 

65.5 

80.0 

64.5 

91.0 

81.0 


68.0 

79.5 

63.0 

82.5 

68.0 

79.0 

70.0 

88.0 

73.0 

80.0 
82.0 

72.0 

79.0 

76.0 

70.5 

73.5 

68.0 

80.0 

68.5 

72.0 

60.0 

69.0 
53  0 

73.5 

60.0 

78.0 

68.0 

80.0 

65.0 

74.0 

64.0 

82.0 

68.0 

83.0 

70.0 

82.0 

70.0 

84.0 

70.0 

100.0 

72.0 


Remarks. 


Deg. 

76.5 

70.5 

77.0 

66.0 

63.0 

73.5 

65.5 

78.0 

64.5 

89.0 

80.0 


66.5 

76.0 

61.0 
80.0 
70.0 

76.5 

70.0 

86.0 

72.0 

79.5 

80.0 

70.0 

78.5 

75.0 

70.0 
74  0 

68.0 

79.0 

68.0 

71.5 

61.5 

66.0 

54.5 

71.0 

61.0 

76.0 

69.0 

78.0 

64.0 

74.5 

64.0 

81.0 

67.0 

70.5 

71.0 
70.5 
71.0 


Sky  clouded;  thunder  and  lightning. 

Clouds  in  E. ; calm. 

Few  drops  of  rain;  calm- 
Clear  and  calm. 

Heavy  rain;  NW.  wind. 

Sky  overcast;  calm. 

Clouds  in  horizon;  calm. 

Very  cloudy;  calm. 

Western  sky  clouded;  calm. 

Fair;  calm. 

Sky  clear  and  calm. 

Sky  partially  overcast;  calm;  thunder  and 
lightning,  with  heavy  rain  between  10h. 
and  llh.  p.  m. 

Nearly  clear;  calm. 

Clear;  no  air  stirring. 

Few  clouds;  calm. 

Clouds  passing  off  after  a thunder  shower. 
Sky  clear;  calm. 

Storm  coming  up  from  westward. 

Thin  watery  clouds  moving  from  SW.  to 
NE . ; breeze  variable. 

Cumuli  in  W. ; wind  S.  10°  E. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  moderate  wind  S.  30°  E. 
Scattered  clouds;  calm. 

Clouded  every  where  except  in  the  zenith, 
slight  breeze  S.*40°  E. 

Sky  cloudy;  sun  faint. 

Sky  entirely  overcast;  calm. 

Sun  and  clouds;  calm. 

Cloudy;  appearance  of  rain. 

Cloudy  every  where  except  around  the  set- 
ting sun;  drops  of  rain;  calm. 

Partially  overcast;  calm. 

Sky  clear;  moderate  wind  S.  25°  W. 

White  clouds  in  horizon;  moderate  wind  S. 
15°  W. 

Clouds  rising  in  eastward;  high  windS.  40° 
W. 

Sun  faint;  partially  overcast;  cold  wind  S. 
45°  E. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  calm. 

Sky  clear,  except  in  horizon;  calm. 

Sky  nearly  clear;  slight  breeze  S.  35°  E. 
Sky  clear;  calm. 

Sky  almost  clear;  calm. 

Cloudy,  except  in  the  zenith;  calm. 

Wind  clouds  in  W. ; moderate  windS.  30°  E. 
Clear  and  calm. 

Low  dark  clouds  in  N. ; high  wind  S.  45°  E. 
Sky  clear;  calm. 

Few  clouds;  moderate  wind  S. 

Overcast;  shifting  breeze. 

Very  clouded;  calm. 

Clear;  slight  breeze. 

Very  much  overcast;  calm. 

Misty  and  calm. 

Clear;  no  breeze. 

Clear;  calm. 


' ' ’ - - / y\  . * " «. 
- .'*• 


«.  ( 


- ; ■ . . - • 

' 


vrv."-  . ■ ■ ■'  . :•■■■ 

■ ■ . ' - . ' : ’ ' , N 

• _ v - •.  ■ 
• ' ' -1 

' . : ■ ■"  % : <y->*  •< N • 


’ • ; " •'  l' 


. ^ > 


v . . ■'!  - / , 

■.■.■•.I-  , > / -ri  ' 1 '• 


. • ' , . ; ,-:r>  , - ' • '•  - ■ - ..  ^ • < ‘ 

- 'vr  / -v  t J V . ' 

. • ' . ' • ,f  • . : • '■  ' , 


4 «•  - ■ 


f} 


y 


1 


: ' • - • • . . ' • • ' ... 


v 


1 fv’  ••  " •,  - J..  ' 


' 


A‘  - 


'■  , • • • • ' • : 

. ■ ' . r . f 

y ■ ' ■ ' v : -.r>  . ''  ■" 


' 


' ' 


ASTRONOMICAL  OBSERVATIONS 

MADE  DURING  THE 

EXPEDITION  TO  THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS 


IN  THE  YEAR  1848. 


[ 174  ] 


586 


ST.  LOUIS— RESIDENCE  OF  COLONEL  J.  B.  BRANT. 
Determination  of  time,  May  24,  1S42 — attitude  of  tfte  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer 

. (Rockbank.) 

Des;. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

42 

49 

10 

6 

32 

54 

41 

12 

30 

6 

36 

55 

40 

30 

10 

6 

38 

54 

RESULT  OF  C. 

ALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

5 13  40 

1 

1 22  35 

Determination  of  longitude,  May  27,  1842- 

\ g 

—altitude  of  Vega. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

FIRST  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  Vega. 

Time  of  chronometer. 
No.  7,810. 

1 

Double  altitude  of 
Vega. 

I Time  of 
No. 

chronometer. 

7,810. 

Des;. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Des • 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

87 

03 

20 

3 57 

43 

90 

43 

30 

4 

06 

41 

88 

04 

50 

3 59 

31 

91 

17 

20 

4 

08 

10 

88 

50 

10 

4 01 

31 

92 

01 

50 

4 

10 

09 

89 

22 

20 

4 03 

01 

92 

39 

40  j 

4 

11 

52 

89 

54 

20 

4 04 

25 

93 

22 

10  i 

4 

13 

46 

SECOXTI  SERIES. 


Thermometer  66°. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  mm.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  16  35 

5 

49  01 

90  15  51 

5S7 


[ 174  ] 


ST.  LOUIS— RESIDENCE  OF  COLONEL  J.  B.  BRANT. 

Determination  of  latitude , May  27,  IS42 — altitude  of  Pola?'is. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

■ *. 

min. 

sec. 

, 

74 

38 

20 

4 

30 

27 

74 

39 

10 

4 

32 

41 

74 

40 

10 

4 

35 

20 

Index  error  = — 20  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  18  12 

10  43  48 

38  37  24 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  CHOUTEAU’S  LOWER  TRADING 

HOUSE,  RIGHT  BANK  OF 

THE  K A A Z AS  RIVER,  700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF 
MEXICO. 

[From  this  date,  up  to  the  24th  of  August,  the  Broekbank  pocket  chronometer  was  used  in  not- 
ing time  ] 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  9,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

; Time  of  chronometer. 
(Broekbank.) 

! Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

i 

Time  of  chronometer. 
(Broekbank.) 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Dtg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

53 

19  00 

6 

29 

32.5 

51 

21 

30 

6 

34 

39.5 

52 

54  50 

6 

30 

36.0 

51 

02 

20 

6 

35 

30.0 

52 

39  35 

i 6 

31 

15.6 

50 

45 

50 

6 

36 

123 

52 

22  25 

6 

32 

01.0  j 

i 50 

24 

00 

6 

37 

10.0 

52 

02  50 

: 6 

32 

51.0 

J 

50 

i ' * 

10 

00 

6 

37 

45.7  • 

Index  error  = — 25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

4 57 

22 

1 

36  25 

94  39  31 

588 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  CHOUTEAU’S  LOWER  TRADING  HOUSE,  RIGHT  BANK  OF 
THE  KANZAS  RIVER,  700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF 
MEXICO. 


Determination  of  latitude , June  9,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

mm . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

24 

50 

3 

29 

59 

75 

25 

05 

3 

31 

50 

75 

26 

00 

3 

33 

35 

75 

26 

20 

3 

35 

22 

75 

27 

00 

3 

37 

00 

75 

28 

40 

3 

38 

44 

75 

28 

50 

3 

40 

42 

75 

28 

10 

• 

3 

42 

05 

75 

30 

40 

3 

44 

14 

75 

30 

50 

3 

46 

07 

Thermometer  55°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  42  26 

f 

//.  min.  sec. 
9 31  43 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
39  05  53 

June  9,  1S42 — altitude  of  Antares  in  the  meridian. 


Double  altitude  of  Antares. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

49  42  50 

24  49  17 

39  06  00 

589 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  KANZAS  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude,  June  16,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the  : 

1 Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronbmeter. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Deg. 

■min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

56 

40 

00 

6 

26 

31.5 

53 

37 

50 

6 

34 

26.0 

56 

13 

55 

6 

27 

41.5 

53 

21 

45 

6 

35 

07.7 

55 

53 

15 

6 

28 

34.0 

53 

08 

00 

6 

35 

47.0 

55 

35 

20 

6 

29 

22.0 

52 

49 

55 

6 

36 

32.7 

55 

16 

55 

6 

30 

10.0 

52 

30 

30 

6 

37 

23.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

Determination  of  latitude,  June  16,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

31 

20 

10 

53 

40 

75 

32 

50 

10 

56 

14 

75 

34 

20 

10 

58 

42 

75 

34 

20 

11 

00 

39 

75 

34 

55 

11 

02 

30 

75 

36 

50 

11 

04 

30 

75 

37 

00 

11 

06 

16 

75 

37 

30 

11 

08 

16 

75 

37 

55 

11 

09 

43 

75 

39 

40 

11 

12 

59 

True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
37  46  42 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min.  sec. 

9 22  30 


Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 
39  06 


sec. 

40 


5^0 


r ™ j 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  KANZAS  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  16,  1842 — altitude  of  <*  Jlquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

i 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

50  14  00 

11  26  08 

52  43  40 

11  32  46 

51  11  20 

11  28  42 

53  29  00 

11  34  42 

51  52  20 

11  30  28  j 

54  17  40 

11  36  49 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance 

■ 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 50  47 

L 40  48 

96  10  06 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  LITTLE  VERMILLION  CREEK. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  18,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


. 

FIRST  SERIES. 

| 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer.  | 

I 

1 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

40 

41 

00 

7 

10 

41  0 

39 

05 

00 

7 

14 

58.0' 

40 

19 

20 

7 

11 

38  0 

38 

43 

50 

7 

15 

52.5 

40 

01 

00 

7 

12 

26.5 

38 

30 

10 

7 

16 

30.0 

39 

44 

10 

7 

13 

11.5 

38 

13 

50 

7 

17 

14.0 

39 

19 

40 

7 

14 

17.5 

38 

00 

00 

7 

17 

50.0 

Index  error  = — 35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION, 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

A-.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 32  18 

1 42  10 

96  36  40 

591 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  LITTLE  VERMILLION  CREEK. 
Determination  of  latitude , June  18,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

aec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

75 

49 

00 

10 

44 

04 

75 

50 

20 

10 

48 

08 

75 

51 

40 

10 

51 

48 

75 

52 

20 

10 

53 

34 

75 

53 

20 

10 

55 

09 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

4 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

37  54 

12 

9 08  46 

| 39  15  18 

( 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  OF  THE  BIG  VERMILLION  CREEK,  1,350 
FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 


Determination  of  longitude , June  19,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

/ 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

38 

16 

40 

7 

18 

16.0 

37 

59 

30 

7 

19 

02.4 

36 

16 

40 

7 

23 

39.0 

37 

43 

45 

7 

19 

45.0 

35 

46 

50 

7 

24 

59.5 

37 

24 

35 

7 

20 

36  0 

35 

27 

40 

7 

25 

50.6 

36 

45 

20 

7 

22 

22.0 

Index  error  ==  — 42  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 39  43 

1 42  41 

96  48  05 

592 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A TRIBUTARY  OF  THE  BIG  VERMILLION  CREEK,  1,350 
FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  19,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min . sec. 

76  19  30 

10  40  52 

76  21  00 

10  44  51 

76  23  00 

10  48  53 

76  24  40 

10  53  06 

76  24  20 

10  55  47 

76  26  15 

10  58  58 

76  27  20 

1 1 00  25 

76  27  50 

11  01  49 

76  28  50 

11  04  36 

76  29  50 

11  06  52 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

38  11  07 

9 13  11 

39  30  40 

593 


[ iU  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LITTLE  BLUE  RIVER,  1,600  FEET  ABOVE  THE 
LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  25,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

15 

20 

10 

36 

14 

78 

16 

45 

10 

40 

50 

78 

17 

50 

10 

43 

36 

78 

19 

25 

10 

45 

14 

- 

78 

20 

15 

10 

46 

57 

78 

20 

20 

10 

48 

25 

78 

20 

50 

10 

49 

45 

* 

78 

21 

25 

10 

51 

23 

78 

22 

15 

10 

52 

40 

78 

23 

10 

10 

54 

17 

Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg . 

min.  sec.' 

39  09  00 

8 57 

19 

40 

26  56 

Determinatian  of  longitude,  June  25,  1842 — altitude  of » Aquilx . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES.  | SECOND  SERIES- 


Double 

altitude 

Aquilse. 

of  a j 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

'min. 

sec. 

h.  min . 

sec. 

50 

34 

40 

11 

01 

45.0 

53 

06 

20 

11  08 

34.0 

51 

19 

10 

11 

03 

47.3 

53 

40 

07 

11  10 

05.5 

52 

11 

15 

11 

06 

07.0 

54 

27 

15 

11  12 

11.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

| 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

t l 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

9 

17  26 

t 

1 

49 

39 

98  54 

07 

[ 1?4  ] 


58  4 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LITTLE  BLUE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  25,  1842 — altitude  of  Antares  near  the 

meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Antares. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

4.5 

55 

30 

11 

18 

02 

46 

03 

00 

11 

19 

42 

46 

22 

50 

11 

26 

26 

46 

27 

30 

11 

27 

46 

46 

32 

20 

11 

30 

04 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

23  28  33 

- 

40  26  43 

595 


C 174  ] 


FIRST  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  1,970  FEET 
ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  26,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

06 

15 

11 

20 

50 

79 

07 

10 

11 

23 

29 

79 

09 

20 

11 

25 

51 

79 

09 

35 

11 

27 

28 

79 

10 

45 

11 

30 

09 

79 

11 

30 

11 

32 

00 

79 

12 

30 

11 

34 

00 

79 

14 

20 

11 

35 

52 

79 

14 

35 

11 

37 

00 

79 

15 

00 

11 

38 

54 

Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
39  34  31 


Latitude. 


Deg.  min.  sec. 
40  41  10 


Determination  of  latitude , June  26,  1842 — altitude  of  Ant  ares  near  the 

meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Antares. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

46 

31 

20 

11 

48 

34 

46 

32 

20 

11 

51 

03 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

23  14  13 

" 

40  41  03 

596 


[ 174  ] 

FIRST  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  1,970  FEET 
ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  26,  1842 — altitude  of  a.  tfquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


TIRST  SERIES. 

\ 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude 

i 

of  a ; 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquilse. 

| 

Aquilse. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

74 

24 

40 

12 

05 

20.5  ! 

75 

04 

50 

12 

07 

15.5 

78 

36 

35 

12 

17 

35.5 

75 

39 

30 

12 

08 

58.0 

79 

16 

45 

12 

19 

30.0 

76 

It) 

10 

12 

10 

26.0 

79 

44 

30 

12 

20 

56.0 

76 

475 

15 

12 

12 

10.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

5.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  23  06 

1 50  59 

99  17  47 

597 


[ 174  ] 


'SECOND  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , June  27,  1842— altitude  of  a dlquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg 

min. 

sec. 

, h- 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

71 

43 

10 

11 

54 

4L0 

73 

26 

20 

11 

59 

38 

72 

38 

50 

11 

57 

20.0 

1 

73 

52 

40 

12 

00 

52 

73 

07 

00 

11 

58 

41.5 

74 

50 

00 

12 

03 

38 

_ 

Index  error 

= 

+ io 

sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  07  03 

1 

62  05 

99  37  45 

Determination  of  latitude , June  27,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


De g. 

78 

79 
79 
79 


mm. 

59 

01 

04 

05 


sec. 

45 

30 

00 

55 


h. 

11 

11, 

11 

11 


mm. 

13 

16 

20 

24 


sec. 

03 

46 

40 

12 


79  07  00 

11  26  OS 

! 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  30  50 

9 28  36 

40  39  32 

598 


[ 174  ] 

THIRD  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  2S,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  j Time  of  chronometer. 


Beg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

59 

20 

11 

05 

05 

78 

59 

35 

11 

07 

32 

79 

00 

25 

11 

08 

46 

79 

01 

15 

11 

10 

02 

79 

01 

50 

11 

13 

08 

79 

03 

30 

11 

14 

49 

79 

04 

35 

11 

16 

42 

79 

05 

20 

11 

18 

09 

79 

05 

55 

11 

19 

11 

79 

06 

40 

11 

20 

56 

Index  error  = — 20  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  30  13 

9 20  25 

40  39  50 

539 


C rn  ] 

FIFTH  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  30,  1842 — altitude  of  dint  ares  near 

the  meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Antares. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

46 

15 

50 

11 

36 

38 

46 

17 

50 

11 

40 

59 

46 

15 

50 

11 

44 

18 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = — 20  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

1 

Determination  of  longitude , June  30,  1S42 — altitude  of  a Aquilse . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquiis. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

61  12  40 

11  17  05  5 

61  48  30 

ll  18  49.0 

62  22  20 

11  20  19.0 

63  10  50 

11  22  35.0 

63  59  50 

11  24  52.6 

% 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

1 

h.  m:n . sec , 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 

25  20 

1 55  24 

100  38  10 

600 


[ 174  ] 

FIFTH  ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , June  30,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 

**  j - ' 

Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

79 

16 

40 

10 

57 

01 

79 

17 

26 

10 

59 

13 

79 

19 

00 

11 

01 

20 

79 

19 

35 

11 

02 

56 

79 

20 

40 

11 

04 

44 

79 

21 

10 

11 

06 

09 

79 

21 

50 

11 

07 

50 

79 

22 

40 

11 

09 

19 

79 

23 

00 

11 

10 

59 

79 

24 

40 

11 

12 

56 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  39  04 

9 09  51 

40  49  55 

601 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF 
THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  2,700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF 
MEXICO.  % 

Determination  of  longitude , July  2,  1842 — sun’s  altitude. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES.  ||  SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer.  J 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

35 

21 

30 

7 

44 

57.0 

32 

12 

20 

7 

53 

39.0 

34 

54 

00 

7 

46 

11.5 

32 

00 

00 

7 

54 

14.5 

34 

24 

50 

7 

47 

32.0 

31 

48 

10 

7 

54 

49.0 

33 

46 

15 

7 

49 

19.5 

31 

29 

30 

7 

55 

40.0 

33 

01 

50 

7 

51 

23.5 

31 

14 

10 

7 

56 

23.5 

Index  error  = — 18  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

5 53  34 

1 

57  50 

101  22 

00 

Determination  of  longitude , July  2 , 1S42 — altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquil®. 

Aquilae. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  see. 

73  25  40 

11  46  41 

75  36  25 

11  53  03 

74  10  30 

11  48  51 

76  18  40 

11  55  06 

74  49  20 

11  50  42 

76  43  10 

i 

11  56  18 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

I" 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  - min.  sec. 

9 53  58 

1 57  49 

101  22  00 

3-9 


602 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF 
THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  2,700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF 
MEXICO. 


Determination  of  latitude , July  2 , 1842 — altitude  of  Jintares  in  the 

meridian. 


Double  altitude  of  the  star. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

45  44  15 

22  49  55 

41  05  22 

Determination  of  longitude , July  3,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

53 

50 

50 

9 

08 

22.0 

57 

06 

25 

9 

17 

05.5 

54 

09 

30 

9 

09 

04.5 

57 

43 

05 

9 

18 

44.5 

55 

05 

50 

9 

11 

43.5 

58 

15 

40 

9 

20 

12.7 

55 

38 

20 

9 

13 

n.cf 

58 

41 

40 

9 

21 

22.0 

56 

09 

20 

9 

14 

35.3 

59 

11 

25 

9 

22 

41.5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

• Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 18  01 

1 57  41 

Time  did  not  permit  us  to  wait  at  some  of  the  most  important  geographi- 
cal positions  for  favorable  weather,  and  I have  occasionally  referred  to  these 
the  observations  taken  at  less  marked  localities.  By  the  chronometric  dif- 
ference, the  lunar  distance  of  September  16,  observed  about  forty  miles 
below,  is  referred  to  this  place. 


I 


603  [ 174  ] 

NCAMFMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  4,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


- 

FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min . 

sec. 

h. 

min, 

sec. 

55 

49 

40 

6 

52 

22 

53  54 

15 

6 

57 

05 

55 

24 

10 

6 

53 

05 

53  34 

00 

6 

57 

59 

54 

57 

10 

6 

54 

17 

53  20 

40 

6 

58 

35 

54 

30 

50 

6 

55 

2ff 

53  02 

30 

6 

59 

23 

54 

14 

50 

6 

56 

10 

52  44 

30 

7 

00 

11 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

* 

% 


604 


[ 1-4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  AN  ISLAND  IN  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , July  6,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

79  53 

40 

11 

43  02 

- 

79  59 

00 

11 

53  24 

Index  error  = -J-  1 5 sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

39  57  21 

9 42  30  • 

40  51 

17 

Determination  of  longitude , July  6,  1842 — altitude  of  a Jlquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


• Double  altitude  of  a 

Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

80 

53 

20 

12 

00  14 

82 

52 

10 

12 

06  14 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

- 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

9 

57  31 

• 

2 

05 

43 

103  35 

04 

605 


[ i-4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , July  7,  1842 — altitude  of  a Aquilae. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilae. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

29 

20 

12 

04 

45 

84 

16 

10 

12 

07 

07 

85 

19 

50 

12 

10 

54 

86 

01 

20 

12 

12 

32 

86 

41 

30 

12 

14 

37 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Index  error  = — j—  15  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

10  02  42 

2 

07  17 

104  02  13 

Determination  of  latitude , July  7,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

» 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

43 

40 

12 

18 

37  , 

79 

44 

50 

12 

21 

39 

79 

48 

00 

12 

24 

28 

79 

51 

00 

12 

29 

54 

79 

52 

40 

12 

33 

19 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  53  11 

10  18  17 

40  33  26 

606 


[ ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  ST.  VRAIN’S  FORT,  SOUTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  5,440 
FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude , July  11,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun- 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

50 

01 

40 

9 

18 

23 

53 

00 

00 

9 

26 

17.0 

50 

34 

50 

9 

19 

52 

53 

36 

55 

9 

27 

53.5 

51 

01 

05 

9 

21 

02 

54 

17 

20 

9 

29 

40.0 

51 

28 

10 

9 

22 

13 

54 

48 

15 

9 

31 

02.0 

52 

02 

55 

9 

23 

45 

55 

21 

30 

9 

32 

30.6 

Index  error  = -j-  15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 11  54 

2 13  22 

105  45  13 

Determination  of  longitude , July  12,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

i Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

i sun’s  lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

62 

33 

10 

9 

51 

51 

66  09  30 

10 

01  20.0 

63 

27 

20 

9 

54 

13 

j 67  09  30 

10 

04  55.5 

63 

57 

00 

9 

55 

32 

/■ 

64 

48 

00 

9 

57 

45 

1 

607 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  CROW  CREEK. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  12,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

«ac. 

A. 

min. ' 

sec. 

79 

39 

30 

11 

31 

28 

79 

41 

40 

11 

35 

29 

79 

45 

40 

11 

41 

24 

Index  error  = -f-  7 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

39  50  13 

9 25  31 

40  42  00 

Determination  of  longitude , July  12,  1842 — altitude  of  a Aquilde. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECORD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilae. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  a 
Aquilae. 

Tim6  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  miri.  sec. 

A.  mm.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

83  15  20 

11  49  47 

85  36  30 

11  57  01 

84  38  30 

11  53  58 

86  26  10 

11  59  36 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

A. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 42  53 

2 

12  12 

105  33  27 

> 


608 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  A FORK  OF  LODGE  POLE  CREEK,  5,450  FEET  ABOVE  THE 

GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  13,  1S42 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

80 

37 

30 

11 

35 

16 

80 

39 

50 

11 

38 

10 

80 

43 

00 

11 

41 

24 

Index  error  = + 15  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg . min.  sec . 

40  19  12 

9 28  50 

41  08  34 

• 

Determination  of  longitude , July  13,  1842 — altitude  of  a Jlquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


X 

Double  altitude  of 

a Aquilffi. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

36 

30 

11 

46 

45 

84 

21 

20 

11 

49 

06 

85 

05 

40 

11 

51 

22 

85 

41 

10 

11 

53 

14 

86 

34 

50 

11 

56 

01 

87 

12 

10 

11 

58 

05 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 41  47 

2 10  38 

105  13  38 

J — 

609 


C 174  ] 


' ENCAMPMENT  ON  HORSE  CREEK. 


Determination  of  longitude , July  14,  1842 — altitude  of  a jiquilde. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOXD  SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer.  ; 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

£ Aquilae. 

Aqrfilse. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

71  33  00 

11  07  04 

73  20  40 

11  12  16 

' 72  27  30 

11  09  39 

74  16  50 

11  15  01 

Index  error  ==  -f-  15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 01  29 

2 09  31 

104  59  23 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  14,1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

05 

30 

12 

06 

09 

82 

09 

30 

12 

11 

09 

82 

11 

30 

12 

13 

57 

82 

15 

30 

12 

19 

16 

Time  of  chronometer. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

» 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

41  04  23 

10  03  10 

41 

40 

13 

610 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  FORT  LARAMIE,  4,470  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE 

GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  16,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

31 

20 

9 

40 

21.0 

60 

12 

20 

9 

44 

5?.5 

58 

58 

40 

9 

41 

33.5 

60 

37 

50 

9 

46 

01.0 

59 

18 

30 

9 

42 

29.0 

60 

49 

50 

9 

46 

34.0 

59 

28 

10 

9 

42 

54.0 

60 

59 

20 

9 

46 

59.0 

59 

45 

00 

9 

43 

40.4 

61 

11 

00 

9 

47 

32.5 

Thermometer  8 1 0 . 3 . 


Index  error  = -j-  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  m^n.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

4 26  17 

2 10  35 

105  20  13 

Determination  of  longitude , July  18,  1842 — altitude  of  a vdquilae. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitude 

of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquilse. 

Aquilae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

79 

31 

10 

11  17 

04.5 

80 

55 

40 

11 

21 

29 

79 

57 

00 

11  18 

25.5 

• 81 

24 

40 

11 

23 

00 

80 

32 

30 

11  20 

18.0 

81 

47 

20 

11 

24 

10 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

9 10  46 

2 

09 

58 

611 


C 174  3 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  FORT  LARAMIE,  4,470  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE 

GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  18,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

59 

10 

11 

36 

24 

83 

00 

50 

11 

39 

00 

83 

02 

30 

11 

41 

34 

83 

04 

50 

11 

43 

45 

83 

06 

00 

11 

45 

31 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Thermometer  63°. 

Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

41  30  38 

9 31  14 

42 

12 

10 

Determination  of  longitude , July  20,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

1 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

Dig. 

, min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

/h. 

min. 

sec. 

40 

13 

20 

8 

52 

08.0 

41 

56 

40 

8 

56 

51.0 

40 

41 

00 

8 

53 

25.5 

42 

08 

30 

8 

57 

23.6 

41 

02 

55 

8 

54 

25.0 

42 

20 

20  ' 

8 

57 

56.0 

41 

23 

30 

8 

55 

21.0 

42 

33 

40 

8 

58 

33.0 

41 

40 

50 

8 

56 

08.0 

42 

52 

20 

8 

59 

25.0 

Thermometer  65°. 


Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 


612 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  FORT  LARAMIE,  4,470  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF  THE 

GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude , July  21,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


. 

FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

1 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  ot  the  sun.  ! 

Time  of  chronometer  • 

Deg, 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

39 

45 

20 

8 

51 

23.0 

41  24 

50 

8 

55 

57.0 

40 

22 

50 

8 

53 

05.5 

41  42 

10 

8 

56 

44.0 

40 

36 

20 

8 

53 

43.0 

41  54 

20 

8 

57 

16.4 

40 

54 

10 

8 

54 

32.5 

42  07 

30 

8 

57 

52.3 

41 

05 

00 

8 

55 

01.0 

42  22 

40 

8 

•68 

34.3 

Thermometer  66°. 
Index  error  = 25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

6 46  00 

2 09  25 

By  the  chronometric  difference,  the  lunar  distance  observed  at  Dried 
Meat  camp  is  referred  to  this  place. 


613 


[ 174  ] 

\ 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude , July  23,  1S42 — altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  ! 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquilae. 

Aquilae. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

78 

03 

30 

10 

55 

54.5 

81 

35 

40 

11 

07 

02.0 

79 

22 

45 

11 

00 

00.0 

82 

10 

00 

11 

08 

52.0 

79 

48 

50 

11 

01 

22.5 

82 

27 

20 

11 

09 

50.5 

80 

11 

25 

11 

02 

36.5 

83 

07 

00 

11 

11 

57.0 

80 

* 33 

• 

50 

11 

03 

48.0 

Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

8 53  28 

2 

11  37 

[ 174  ] 614 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  23,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

00 

10 

11 

29 

08 

84 

01 

20 

11 

31 

34 

84 

02 

20 

11 

32 

45 

84 

03 

15 

11 

33 

57 

84 

04 

15 

11 

35 

20 

84 

05 

25 

11 

36 

50 

84 

07 

20 

11 

38 

57 

84 

07 

25 

11 

40 

02  . 

84 

10 

00 

11 

43 

04 

84 

11 

50 

11 

45 

44  • 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

42  01  54 

9 23  39 

42 

39 

25 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  23,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

<• 

h. 

min. 

see. 

75 

18 

40 

12 

01 

08.0 

74 

51 

10 

12 

02 

23.0 

74 

04 

20 

12 

04 

29.5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min>  sec. 
9 51  , 01 

h.  m'n.  sec. 

2 11  39 

615 


[ m ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  N.  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER— DRIED  MEAT  CAMP. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  25,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  : 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

1 

j Time  of  chronometer. 

i 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

48 

24 

00 

7 

16 

26.0 

46 

42 

40 

7 

21 

04.4 

48 

10 

50 

7 

17 

01.0 

46 

27 

40 

7 

21 

45.5 

47 

49 

50 

7 

17 

58.5 

46 

11 

50 

7 

22 

27.0 

47 

24 

40 

7 

19 

07.0 

45 

55 

40 

7 

23 

11.6 

47 

.02 

00 

7 

20 

09.0 

45 

37 

45 

7 

24 

02.0 

Thermometer  87°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 07  44 

2 12  35 

106  24  09 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  25,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

18 

20 

11 

12 

32 

84 

19 

25 

11 

15 

16 

84 

20 

40 

11 

16 

31 

84 

21 

25 

11 

17 

55 

84 

23 

20 

11 

20 

53 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude . 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

42  09  35 

9 02  53 

42 

51  35 

[ 174  ] 616 


ENCAMPMENT  GN  THE  N.  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER— DRIED  MEAT  CAMP. 
Determination  of  longitude , July  25,  1842 — altitude  oj  Arc  turns. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

86  16  15 

85  41  25 

85  16  40 

1 

h.  min.  sec. 

11  23  43’ 

11  25  21 

11  26  31 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

84  49  30 

84  13  40 

83  26  50 

h.  min.  sec. 

11  27  46 

11  29  27 

11  31  37 

Thermometer  72°.  5. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 14  48 

2 12  36 

Determination  of  longitude , July  25,  1842 — distance  from  the  second 
limb  of  the  moon  to  Jupiter . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

11 

45 

04 

11 

47 

20 

11 

49 

32 

11 

50 

55 

11 

52 

18 

Apparent  distance. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

58 

33 

50 

58 

34 

50 

58 

36 

30 

58 

37 

40 

58 

38 

25 

\ * 

Index  error  = 15  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

. Longitude  of  the  place. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

58  04  42 

16  42  11 

106  26  11 

\ 


617 


[ W4  3 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  MOUTH  OF 

DEER  CREEK. 


Determination  of  latitude , July  26,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris.  Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

22  • 

40 

11 

14 

27 

84 

25 

00 

11 

15 

36 

84 

27 

10 

11 

19 

06 

84 

27 

00 

11 

20 

10 

84 

29 

00 

11 

22 

11 

84 

30 

10 

11 

23 

57 

84 

32 

50 

11 

28 

06 

84 

34 

20 

11 

29 

33 

84 

34 

50 

11 

30 

39 

84 

37 

00 

11 

33 

32 

Index  error  = -4-  15  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

* 

Latitude. 

Deg . min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec . 

42  14  16 

9 

10  02 

42 

52 

24 

40 


618 


l 3 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  MOUTH  OF 

DEER  CREEK. 


Determination  of  longitude , July  26,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

46 

47 

45 

7 

21 

03.0 

46 

31 

40 

7 

21 

45.5 

Interrupted  by  clouds. 

Interrupted  by  clouds. 

45 

37 

15 

7 

24 

14.5 

45 

22 

10 

7 

24 

56.6 

45 

01 

10 

7 

25 

54.0 

44- 

37 

30 

7 

27 

00.0 

Thermometer  83°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 

09  54 

2 

13  33 

106  43  15 

Determination  of  longitude , July  26,  1S42 — altitude  of  Jirc turns. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOJTD 

SERIES. 

' Double  altitude  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Arcturus. 

Arcturus. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

80 

29  50 

11 

36 

47 

79 

13 

30 

11 

40 

16.5 

79 

59  10 

11 

38 

12 

78 

52 

00 

11 

41 

17.0 

79 

34  25 

11 

39 

20 

78 

32 

30 

11 

42 

11.0 

Thermometer  71°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

9 26  06 

2 13  34 

619 


r 1^4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  UPPER  CACHE 

CAMP. 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  28,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


Doable  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

min. 

sec . 

45 

12 

55 

7 

25 

21.5 

43 

46 

20 

29 

17.7 

44 

56 

10 

7 

26 

05.0 

43 

35 

25 

7 

29 

48.0 

44 

45 

35 

7 

26 

36.2 

43 

17 

15 

7 

30 

37.0 

44 

30 

20 

7 

27 

17  5 

43 

05 

05 

7 

31 

11.0 

44 

15 

20 

7 

27 

58.6 

42 

51 

40 

7 

31 

41.7 

SECOND  SERIES. 


Thermometer  80°.  5. 


Index  error  = -f-  12  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

j 

| 

Longitude. 

k. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min 

< 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

5 

13  27 

2 15 

09 

107  15  55 

Determination  of  latitude , July  2S,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double 

altitude 

of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

31 

30 

11 

24 

10 

84 

32 

45 

11 

25 

45 

84 

35 

10 

11 

27 

55 

84 

35 

30 

11 

29 

12 

84 

36 

35 

11 

30 

34 

84 

38 

10 

11 

31 

50 

84 

39 

55 

11 

33 

25 

84 

40 

00 

11 

34 

43 

84 

40 

25 

11 

35 

55 

84 

42 

15 

11 

37 

24 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

42  17  54 

9 15  59 

42  50 

53 

620 


[ ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , July  29,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

53 

40 

11 

05 

00 

83 

57 

10 

11 

07 

47 

83 

57 

30 

11 

09 

10 

83 

59 

45 

11 

12 

14 

84 

00 

40 

11 

14 

16 

84 

03 

00 

11 

16 

00  ** 

84 

04 

10 

11 

18 

21 

84 

05 

00 

11 

20 

05 

84 

06 

40 

11 

21 

42 

84 

08 

10 

11 

23 

05 

Thermometer  60°. 
Index  error  — -f-  12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

42  00  01 

3 58  58 

42 

38 

01 

621 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude,  July  29,  1S42 — altitude  of  a Aquilas. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

81 

29 

00 

10 

47 

19.0 

82 

04 

50 

10 

49 

11.0 

82 

35 

30 

10 

50 

50.5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

8 

33  13 

2 

15  54 

107  29 

06 

Determination  of  longitude , July  29,  1842 — altitude  of  %drcturus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Arcturus. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

91 

57 

20 

10 

55 

42.0 

91 

17 

50 

10 

57 

33.7 

90 

44 

10 

10 

59 

05.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 4L  30 

2 15  57 

[ 174  ] 


622 


GOAT  ISLAND,  &c 


Favorable  weather  enabled  us  to  observe  here  an  occultation  of  * Arietis, 
which  occurred  at  the  moon’s  bright  limb*  at  Oh.  05'  40"  of  the  31st  of 
July,  (civil  time.)  In  order  that  it  might  be  calculated  with  the  advantage 
of  correspondent  observations,  and  die  correction  of  the  errors  of  the  tables, 
the  observation  was  sent  to  Mr.  S.  C.  Walker,  at  Philadelphia.  The  fol- 
lowing is  the  result  from  Mr.  Walker’s  computation,  without  any  correc- 
tion for  errors  of  the  tables. 

July  30,  1842 — astronomical  time. 

t d'  a b c 

t A ( A 

Im.  * Arietis  12//.  5'  40"  — - 7 h.  10'  32".0i  + 1.896  -f  1.611  + 2.488. 

By  the  estimated  difference  of  longitude,  thirty-two  seconds,  (32",)  the 
lunar  distance  observed  at  the  mouth  of  the  Sweet  Water  on  the  23d  of 
August,  is  referred  to  this  place,  for  the  longitude  of  which  we  have 
adopted  the  mean  from  chronometer,  lunar  distance,  and  occultation,  re- 
sulting as  follows: 


Longitude  of  Goat  island,  by  lunar  distance 

. 

h. 

— 7 

min. 

10 

sec. 

07.91 

Longitude  of  Goat  island,  by  chronometer 

- 

— 7 

10 

51.66 

Longitude  of  Goat  island,  by  occultation 

- 

= 7 

10 

32.01 

Mean  longitude  of  Goat  island 

- 

= 7 

10 

30.53 

Some  of  the  observations  made  at  this  place  were  lost  in  the  accident  in 
the  Platte  river  on  the  24th  of  August. 


623 


C 174  3 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  GOAT  ISLAND,  N.  FORK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  July  30.  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the 

meridian. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

, 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

131  22  30 

65  56  52 

42  33  27 

Index  error 


12  sec. 


Determination  of  longitude , July  31,  1S42 — altitude  of  a Jiquilx. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

99  51  50 

3 01  02 

99  09  30 

3 04  02 

98  45  50 

3 05  42 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

//.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

0 46  59 

2 

16  36 

Determination  of  longitude,  July  31,  1842 — altitude  of  a Aurigse. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aurigre. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  rain.  sec. 

48  38  20 

4 13  40 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 57  09 

2 16  31 

624 


[ 174  ] 

JAMPME 

Determination  of  latitude , August  1,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER,  ONE  MILE  BELOW  ROCK 

INDEPENDENCE. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

• 

84 

04 

20 

11 

29 

33 

84 

05 

50 

11 

31 

12 

84 

05 

00 

11 

32 

15 

84 

07 

50 

11 

33 

42 

84 

09 

00 

. 11 

35 

20 

84 

10 

00 

11 

36 

37 

84 

11 

40 

11 

38 

18 

84 

13 

00 

11 

39 

38 

84 

13 

10 

11 

40 

48 

84 

14 

00 

11 

42 

14 

* 

Thermometer  47°. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  03  54 

9 18  40 

42  29  56 

Index  error  = 


12  sec. 


Determination  of  longitude , August  1,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer,  j 

| 

• 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

66 

41 

00 

11 

54 

55.0 

64 

00 

00 

12 

02 

10.0 

66 

16 

20 

11 

56 

03.0 

63 

22 

50 

12 

03 

52.0 

65 

50 

30 

11 

57 

10.0 

62 

46 

30 

12 

05 

29.6 

65 

24 

,10 

11 

58 

19.5 

62 

14 

10 

12 

06 

57.0 

64 

49 

20 

11 

59 

55.5 

61 

48 

50 

12 

08 

06.0 

SECOND  SERIES. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

9 44 

00 

2 

17  18 

107  55 

00 

625 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  5, 1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

* OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

00 

30 

5 

18 

55 

88 

03 

20 

5 

22 

15 

88 

02 

00 

5 

23 

39 

88 

02 

40 

5 

26 

01 

88 

03 

30 

5 

27 

32 

Thermometer  57°. 
Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

# 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

44  00  35 

3 02  49 

42  32  31 

Determination  of  longitude , August  5,  1842 — altitude  of  a Lyrse . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Lyrae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

67 

38 

30 

5 

04 

26.0 

66 

58 

40 

5 

06 

21.5 

66 

35 

30 

5 

07 

32.0 

Sky  very  misty. — Observation  indifferent. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

2 45  14 

2 20  53 

[ »74  ] 


626 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude,  August  7,  1842 — altitude  of  Arc  tur  us. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chrohometer. 

D*g.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

51  46  20 

12  18  02 

50  42  '30 

12  20  56 

49  54  30 

12  23  04 

Index  error  =4-25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 57  01 

2 23  39 

109  51  29 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  1,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

84  59  25 

12  30  38 

85  00  00 

12  32  19 

85  01  • 20 

12  33  25 

85  02  30' 

12  34  57 

85  03  20 

12  36  21 

85  05  00 

12  37  48 

Thermometer  36°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  30  18 

10  11  25 

42  27  15 

627 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  LITTLE  SANDY  CREEK. 

Determination  of  longitude , August  8,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


• 

FIRST  SERIES. 

1 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

• 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

'•  .. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

— 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

44 

51 

50 

7 

24 

45.5 

43 

29 

30 

7 

28 

26.5 

44 

33 

00 

7 

25 

34.0 

43 

16 

50 

7 

29 

02.0 

44 

16 

50 

7 

26 

18.0 

43 

06 

30 

7 

29 

29.4 

44 

04 

00 

7 

26 

53.5 

42 

52 

25 

7 

30 

06.5 

43 

50 

50 

7 

27 

29.0 

42 

38 

10 

7 

30 

47.0 

Thermometer  63°. 


Index  error  = + 25  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


t 

Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  see. 

h . min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

5 

03  23 

2 24  30 

110  07  46 

Determination  of  longitude , August  8,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 

Time  of  chronometer. 

turns. 

turns. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

1 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

rain.  sec. 

77  19 

05 

11 

05 

38 

75 

21 

30 

11 

11  03 

76  39 

40 

11 

07 

31 

75 

00 

40 

11 

11  58 

76  09 

30 

11 

08 

49 

74 

39 

25 

11 

12  53 

Thermometer  45°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

• 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

45  07 

2 

24 

31 

[ ^ ] 


628 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  LITTLE  SANDY  CREEK. 

Delermmation  of  latitude , August  S,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

• 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

38 

40 

10 

41 

26 

83 

41 

20 

10 

44 

41 

/ 

83 

42 

30 

10 

47 

10 

83 

45 

20 

10 

49 

48 

83 

46 

00 

10 

51 

16 

83 

48 

30 

10 

54 

33 

83 

50 

20 

10 

56 

14 

83 

50 

40 

10 

58 

08 

83 

52 

20 

10 

59 

51 

83 

53 

25 

11 

01 

08 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

41  52 

50 

8 27  54 

42 

27 

34 

629 


[ W4  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE-  FIRST  NEW  FORK. 


Determination  of  latitude , August  9,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

32 

30 

11 

10 

13 

84 

34 

40 

11 

12 

19 

84 

35 

30 

11 

13 

45 

84 

35 

50 

11 

14 

57 

84 

37 

30 

11 

16 

13 

84 

38 

00 

• 11 

17 

22 

84 

39 

10 

11 

19 

00 

84 

40 

00 

11 

20 

34 

84 

40 

50 

11 

21 

53 

84 

42 

30 

11 

23 

29 

Index  error  = -f-  25  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


' True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

/ 

min . 

sec. 

42 

18  12 

8 51  00 

42 

42 

46 

Determination  of  longitude , August  9,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturus , 

OBSERVATIONS. 


tthst 

SERIES. 

• 

SECOND  1 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

68 

33 

40 

11 

26 

37 

66 

37 

35 

11 

31 

54.0 

68 

02 

25 

11 

28 

04 

65 

56 

15 

11 

33 

48.0 

67 

27 

00 

11 

29 

41 

65 

14 

00 

11 

35 

40.5 

Thermometer  44°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec . 

9 05  15 

2 25  42 

110  29  17 

630 


[ M4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  MOUNTAIN  LAKE,  7,200  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF 
. THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , August  10,  1842 — altitude  of  Pelaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

84  55  20 

11  15  55 

84  55  50 

11  17  00 

84  57  30 

11  18,  28 

84  58  00 

11  19  56 

Index  error  = — 12  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min . sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg . 

min. 

sec. 

42 

27  25 

8 51  42 

42 

50 

08 

\ 


631 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  MOUNTAIN  LAKE,  7,200  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF 

THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  11,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris, 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

k . min.  sec. 

84  43  20 

10  56  56 

84  44  20 

10  68  32  • • 

84  46  10 

11  00  33 

84  46  30 

11  01  38 

84  48  30 

11  03  37 

84  49  30 

11  04  43 

84  49  50 

11  05  52 

84  51  50 

11  07  01 

84  52  00 

11  08  29 

84  52  60 

11  09  24 

Thermometer  54°. 

Index  error  =~  — 12  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

/ 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  23  19 

8 

37  54 

42  49  55 

632 


[ W4  1 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  MOUNTAIN  LAKE,  7,200  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF 

THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude , August  11,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


/ 

FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

1 • 

• 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

44 

04 

00 

9 

36 

16.5 

45 

23 

00 

9‘ 

39 

53.0 

44 

15 

30 

9 

36 

47.6 

45 

33 

10 

9 

40 

20.4 

44 

30 

15 

9 

37 

28.0 

45 

42 

40 

9 

40 

46.0 

44 

46 

30 

9 

38 

12.3 

.45 

51 

15 

9 

41 

09.0 

45 

00 

40 

9 

38 

51.0 

46 

03 

45 

9 

41 

43.3 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 13  19 

2 25  49 

110  37  25 

During  my  absence  from  this  place,  and  between  the  12th  and  16th,  the 
chronometer  stopped. 


633 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  MOUNTAIN  LAKE,  7,200  FEET  ABOVE  THE  LEVEL  OF 
THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO 


Determination  of  longitude,  August  17,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SF.RTES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

40 

02 

15 

5 

54 

48.0 

41 

46 

50 

5 

59 

31.4 

40 

20 

00 

5 

55 

36.3 

42 

01 

20 

6 

00 

12.0 

40 

35 

15 

5 

56 

17.0 

42 

18 

05 

6 

00 

57.7 

40 

48 

35 

5 

56 

54.0 

42 

38 

20 

6 

01 

53.0 

41 

17 

20 

5 

58 

10.5 

i 42 

50 

15 

6 

02 

26.3 

Thermometer  61°. 


Index  error  = — 32  sec  _ 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

! 

Retard- 

Longitude. 

'August,  17,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the  meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Des*  min,  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

120  38  15 

60  34  22 

42  49  24 

41 


r *74  ] 634 

* 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , August  19,  1642 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg- 

min. 

SfC. 

83 

55 

30 

83 

56 

50 

83 

58 

20 

84 

00 

00 

81 

02 

10 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

6 

54 

33 

6 

56 

06 

6 

58 

02 

7 

00 

09 

7 

03 

23 

Index  error  - — 36  sec. 

RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 

. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

1 

Deg.  rain.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  58  07 

8 12  41 

42  22  22 

Determination  of  time , Avgust  19,  1842—  altitude  of  dire  turns. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FillST  SERIES. 

SECOND  SERIES. 

1 )ouhle  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

I 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  - min.  sec. 

h.  min.  see. 

1 Deg.  tain.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

66  51  ' 10 

7 12  03.5 

64  15  10 

7 19  03.0 

65  33  35 

7 15  30.0 

63  39  25 

7 20  37.5 

65  01  40 

7 16  57.5 

63  15  50 

1 . 

7 21  41.0 

RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

■ .* 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

8 32  05 

1 

14  26 

[ *74  3 


035 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 
Determination  of  time,  August  20,  1842 — altitude  of  Arctarus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


EIRST  SERIES. 


Doable 

altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Den;. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

53 

58 

00 

7 

40 

46.0 

52 

19 

20 

7 

45 

13.0 

51 

17 

40 

7 

47 

59.0 

50 

36 

30 

7 

49 

51.5 

49 

53 

40 

! 7 

51 

57.0 

SECOND  S 

SHIES. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc - 

turns- 

| 

Time 

of  chronometer- 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h, 

. min - 

sec. 

48 

59 

20 

7 

54 

is.,  a 

48 

28 

50 

7 

55 

38.5 

47 

47 

00 

7 

57 

34.0 

47 

17 

30 

7 

58 

52.6 

46 

08 

40 

8 

02 

02.0 

I 

Index  error  — 40  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  m>n.  sec. 

9 09  02 


h. 

I 


Retard. 


min. 

16 


sec. 

88 


Longitude. 


Determination  of  latitude,  August  20,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of 


Deg.  min.  sec. 

85  26  00 

85  26  30 

85  27  55 

85  31  40 

85  32  00 

85  33  55 

85  34  40 

85  36  15 

85  37  30 

85  38  50 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec- 

42  45 

05 

9 43  02 

42  31 

46 

►laris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

8 

17 

06 

8 

18 

52 

8 

20 

47 

8 

24 

56 

8 

26 

32 

8 

27 

50 

. 

8 

29 

18 

8 

31 

19 

8 

32 

44 

8 

34 

39 

C 174  ] 


636 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  BIG  BLUE  KIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude,  June  21,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun, 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min.- 

sec. 

| h. 

min. 

sec. 

42 

09 

40 

8 

20 

15.0 

43 

44 

30 

8 

24 

29.5 

42 

36 

40 

8 

21 

27.0 

43 

58 

00 

8 

25 

03.3 

42 

51 

10 

8 

22 

04.5 

44 

12 

45 

8 

25 

44.3 

42 

08 

40  * 

8 

22 

54.0 

44 

29 

10 

8 

26 

27.0 

43 

26 

30 

8 

23 

40.0 

44 

46 

oo 

8 

1 

27 

12.0 

Index  error  = — 42  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

6 40  27 

1 43  28 

97  06  58 

NOON  HALT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  22?  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the 

meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

• 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

118  08  05 

59  19 

10 

42  26  16 

Index  error  = — 40  sec. 


637 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER,  AT  ROCK  INDEPENDENCE. 
Determination  of  latitude , August  22,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h: 

min. 

sec. 

84 

19 

30 

6 

47 

37 

84 

20 

50 

6 

50 

15 

84 

22 

10 

6 

51 

37 

84 

23 

30 

6 

52 

50 

84 

24 

15 

6 

54 

40 

84 

25 

40 

6 

56 

34 

i J * 

84 

27 

45 

6 

57 

49 

84 

28 

40 

6 

59 

15 

84 

29 

10 

7 

00 

24 

84 

30 

10 

7 

01 

41 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

• 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

'Deg. 

42  11  30 

8 16  33 

42 

Latitude. 


min.  sec. 
29  36 


638 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  SWEET  WATER  RIVER,  AT  ROCK  INDEPENDENCE. 
Determination  of  time , August  22,  1842 — altitude  of  Arc turus . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

second 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc* 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of 
Arcturus. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

61 

32 

50 

7 

07 

42.0 

58 

06 

10 

7 

17 

00.0 

60 

58 

25 

7 

09 

14.6 

57 

22 

00 

7 

18 

59.5 

60 

28 

20 

7 

10 

35.0 

56 

48 

50 

1 7 

20 

30.0 

59 

45 

50 

7 

12 

30.5 

55 

47 

40 

7 

23 

15.0 

59 

17 

00 

7 

13 

49.5 

55 

18 

30 

7 

24 

34.3 

Index  error  = — 22  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


• 

Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

8 37  06 

1 21  17 

Determination  of  time , August  23,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

32 

18 

35 

5 

28 

06.0 

33 

35 

50 

5 

31 

36.0 

32 

34 

10 

5 

28 

48.7 

33 

48 

35 

5 

32 

10.0 

32 

40 

30 

5 

29 

33.0 

33 

58 

25 

5 

32 

37.0 

33 

00 

30 

5 

30 

00  0 

34 

08 

30 

5 

33 

05.0 

33 

15 

20 

5 

30 

40.0 

34 

35 

30 

5 

34 

18.5 

639 


[ «74  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER,  MOUTH  OF  SWEET 

WATER  RIVER. 

Determination  of  time , August  23,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

44 

21 

05 

3 

19 

43.0 

43 

55 

50 

3 

20 

51.5 

43 

43 

30 

3 

21 

23.3 

43 

30 

50 

3 

21 

58.5 

43 

17 

30 

3 

22 

35.0 

s>:ro>'n  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 


1 leg.  min.  sec. 

43  01  30 

42  52  10 

42  39  55 

42  27  30 

42  13  50 


Time  of  chronometer. 


h.  min.  sec. 


23 

23 

24 

24 

25 


17.4 

43.4 

17.5 

50.3 

27.4 


Index  error  = — 22  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Retard. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 45  24 

1 22  35 

Determination  of  latitude , August  23,  1842 

OBSERVATIONS. 

— altitude  of  Polaris . 

Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

84  20  00 

6 49  55 

84  21  30 

6 52  20 

84  22  15 

6 53  04 

84  24  20 

6 55  14 

84  25  20 

6 56  32 

84  26  30 

6 57  56 

84  28  10 

6 59  28 

84  28  25 

7 00  59 

84  30  20 

7 02  29 

84  31  10 

7 04  13 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  see. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

* 42  12  50 

8 22  08 

i 

42  27  18 

610 


[ 174  ] • 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER.  MOUTH  OT  SWEET 

WATER  RIVER. 


Determination  of  longitude,  August  23,  1842 — distance  from  the  second 
limb  of  the  moon  to  Jupiter . ( With  the  circle .) 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Time  of  chronometer. 

Apparent  distance. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 43  17 

7 52  54 

7 56  33 

8 01  58 

8 05  43 

* 

8 11  25 

8 14  35 

8 20  50 

8 24  22 

8 29  20 

816  59  10 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

f 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

81 

10  38 

16  41  21 

107  40  00 

NOON  HALT  ON  HORSESHOE  CREEK. 

\ * 

Determination  of  latitude,  August  30,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the 

meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

112  38  35 

I 

1 

56  33  57 

42 

24 

24 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  30  sec. 


641 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  N.  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  4,  1842 — altitude  of  a Squilx  in 

the  meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

113  08  30 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

56  32  56 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  54  38 

Index  errer  = — 1 min.  30  sec. 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  N.  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER, 
FIVE  MILES  ABOVE  CHIMNEY  ROCK. 


Determination  of  latitude , September  5 , 1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg . 

min. 

sec. 

% 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

12 

00 

11 

07 

03 

84 

14 

50 

11 

10 

43 

84 

17 

20 

11 

12 

55 

84 

18 

50 

11 

16 

39 

84 

21 

50 

11 

20 

50 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  30  sec. 


September  5,  1S42 — altitude  of  a Jlquilae  in  the  meridian . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquil®. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

113  30  40 

56  44  00 

41  43  36 

642 


[ 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  N.  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER, 

MOUTH  OF  ASH  CREEK. 


Determination  of  latitude , September  S>  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time 

of  chronometer. 

i 
| q 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

42 

00 

11 

16 

29 

83 

41 

10 

11 

18 

59 

83 

44 

50 

11 

21 

07 

83 

45 

30 

11 

23 

20 

83 

46 

50 

11 

24 

57 

83 

48. 

10 

11 

26 

56 

83 

49 

50 

11 

28 

30 

83 

50 

00 

11 

30 

11 

83 

51 

40 

11 

31 

41 

83 

53 

40 

11 

33 

28 

Thermometer  70°. 3. 


Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

. — -t 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  50  57 

9 19  51 

41  18  19 

September  8,  1842 — altitude  of  a Aquilx  in  the  meridian . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Aquilse. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

D g.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

114  25  10 

57  11  15 

41 

16  19 

643  £ 1 « 4 J 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  NORTH  FORK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER— LOWER  CACHE 

CAMP. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  9,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

83 

36 

55 

83 

38 

10 

83 

40 

20 

83 

43 

20 

83 

46 

25 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

11 

13 

52 

11 

16 

39 

11 

20 

01 

11 

23 

13 

11 

27 

33 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 
RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

41  48  40 

9 

17  42 

41 

14  44 

September  9,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the  meridian . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg . min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

107  36  00 

54  02  37 

41 

14 

17 

' Thermometer  94° , 


644 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF 
THE  PLATTE,  2,700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  12,  1842 — altitude  of  a Jiquilst  in 

the  meridian . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a 

Aquilse. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg / min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

114  48 

50 

57  23  09 

41 

04  26 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  20  sec. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  13,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

104  51  25 

52  40  22 

41  05  07 

Thermometer  70°. 


645 


[ 1^4  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  THE  JUNCTION  OF  THE  NORTH  AND  SOUTH  FORKS  OF 
THE  PLATTE,  2,700  FEET  ABOVE  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  13,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

104 

42 

20 

1 

46 

17  * 

. 104 

45 

25 

1 

48 

16 

104 

49 

00 

1 

51 

13 

104 

50 

10 

1 

53 

22 

104 

50 

35 

1 

54 

40 

104 

51 

25 

1 

56 

37 

104 

51 

10 

1 

58 

49 

104 

50 

20 

1 

59 

35 

104 

49 

45 

2 

01 

03 

104 

48 

20 

2 

02 

35 

104 

47 

28 

2 

03 

17 

104 

45 

00 

2 

05 

16 

104 

43 

50 

2 

06 

02 

104 

43 

05 

2 

06 

50 

104 

41 

45 

2 

07 

29 

Determination  of  time , September  14,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun- 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

sun’s 

altitude  of  the 
lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer,  j 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

j Time  of  chronometer 

1 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min . sec. 

i 

i h.  min. 

sec. 

37 

23 

10 

6 

26 

22.5 

36 

11  20 

6 29 

40  4 

37 

04 

10 

6 

27 

14.3 

35 

57  05 

6 30 

18.5 

36 

50 

30 

6 

27 

53.5 

35 

43  40 

6 30 

56.0 

36 

36 

40 

6 

28 

30.5 

36 

22 

30 

6 

29 

08.3 

Interrupted  ( by  clouds, 
i 

Thermometer  60°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h . min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

4 28  40 

2 00  24 

[ 174  ] 


«46 


NOON  HALT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  1 6,  1 8-12 — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the 

meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double 

altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

102 

54  15 

51 

41 

44 

40 

61 

31  * 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  17  sec. 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  16. 18-12 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

83  • 

08 

10 

11 

04 

35 

83 

10 

40 

11 

07 

41 

83 

12 

25 

11 

10 

44 

83 

14 

35 

11 

12 

50 

83 

15 

40 

11 

14 

41 

83 

17 

15 

11 

16 

21 

83 

17 

30 

11 

18 

01 

83 

19 

40 

11 

20 

26 

83 

21 

40 

11 

21 

07  j 

83 

23 

35 

11 

26 

38 

Index  error  = — 

- 1 min.  17  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

True  altitude. 

1 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

41 

36  23 

9 16  55 

40 

52 

sec 

34 


647 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  longitude , September  16,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturw. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

)ouble  altitude  of  Arc- 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 

Time  of  chronometer. 

turus. 

* 

turus. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

50 

59 

40 

9 

17 

24.5  i 

46 

55 

50 

9 

28 

12.2 

49 

08 

40 

9 

22 

18.3 

46 

02 

15 

9 

30 

35  0 

47 

57 

40 

9 

25 

20.5 

45 

1 

10 

20 

9 

32 

51.5 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

i 

7 27  27 

1 

58 

41 

t 

648 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  longitude , September  16,  1842 — distance  from  the  first 
limb  of  the  moon  to  Jupiter. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


(With  the  circle.) 


Time  of  chronometer. 

Apparent  distance. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

9 

36 

57 

9 

42 

24 

9 

46 

36 

9 

52 

19 

9 

58 

51 

10 

03 

40 

\ 

10 

06 

44 

10 

10 

21 

10 

14 

28 

10 

18 

19 

\ 

10 

21 

57 

10 

25 

49 

10 

28 

13 

10 

30 

18 

10 

33 

56 

IP 

35 

45 

| 

10 

37 

54 

10 

40 

25 

10 

42 

37 

10 

45 

11 

837  45  50 

1 

Thermometer  55°.  5. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  distance. 

Mean  time  at  Greenwich. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  07 

42 

14  56  30 

100  23  45 

619 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  time,  September  17,  1S42 — altitvjde  of  Jlrcturus. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SKRIKS. 

j 

SECOXD  SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  A re- 
turns. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Beg. 

min . 

sec. 

h . 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec.  i 

| h,  min . 

sec. 

37 

10 

40 

9 

48  56  0 

34 

02 

15 

9 57 

23.7 

35 

28 

45 

9 

53  30.5 

| 33 

08 

50 

9 59 

46  0 

34 

48 

45 

9 

55  15.0 

| 32 

25 

20 

! 10  01 

44.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h. 

min.  sec . 

h. 

min-  sec. 

7 

58  41 

1 

57  25 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  17,  1812 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS, 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Drg. 

min . 

sec. 

k. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

14 

00 

10 

14 

36 

82 

16 

10 

10 

16 

37 

82 

17 

40 

10 

19 

35 

82 

19 

50 

10 

21 

55 

82 

21 

45 

10 

25 

12 

82 

24 

45 

10 

27 

50 

82 

27 

25 

10 

31 

48 

82 

30 

00 

10 

34 

51 

82 

34 

50 

30 

40 

50 

82 

39 

50 

10 

47 

44 

Thermometer  55°. 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  18  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Dg.  m'n . sec . 

h.  min . 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

41  10  36 

8 30 

41 

40  42 

3S 

4* 


650 


[ 174  3 

NOON  HALT  OF  SEPTEMBER  18,  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  18,  1848 -altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deo-.  min.  sec. 

KH  49  50 

Beg.  min.  sec. 

51  09  29 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

40  40  21 

t 

• 



Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 

Thermometer  90°. 

NOON  HALT  OF  SEPTEMBER  19,  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  19,  1848 -altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian* 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Beg.  min.  sec. 

101  04  30 

Beg.  min. 
50  46 

see. 

49 

Deg. 

40 

min.  sec . 
39  44 

- — ; 

Index  error  = — 1 

min.  32  sec. 

Thermometer  80°. 

NOON  HALT  OF  SEPTEMBER  20,  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  20,  1842 —altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 
lower  limb. 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude- 

Beg.  min.  see. 

100  00  45 

Deg.  min . see. 

50  14  56 

Deg.  min.  see. 

40  48  19 

* 

Index  error  — 1 min.  32  sec. 

Thermometer  77ar 

# 


651 


[ 174  1 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  time , September  20,  1S42 — altitude  of  Arcturus. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Arcturus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min. 

sec. 

48 

29 

50 

9 04 

31 

Index  error  = - 

- 1 min.  32  see. 

Determination  of  latitude,,  September  20,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

05 

10 

9 

19 

49 

82 

08 

20 

9 

24 

02 

82 

15 

15 

9 

31 

51 

82 

17 

50 

9 

36 

39 

82 

20 

40 

9 

39 

35 

Thermometer  56°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min , sec. 

41  04  54 

7 35  23 

- 

40  54  02 

652 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  PLATTE  BIVER,  TEN  MILES  BELOW 

GRAND  ISLAND. 


Deter  mi  nation  of  time,  September  21,  1842 — altitude  of  Arcturus . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FI  It  ST  ! 

SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

1 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  Arc- 
turus. 

1 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

60 

03 

55 

8 

55  09.5 

• 47 

05 

25 

9 03  03.7 

49 

15 

30 

3 

57  16  7 

46 

16 

65 

9 05  J5.0 

48 

01 

50 

9 

00  34.0 

45 

36 

50 

9 07  01.0 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

7 07  54 

h.  min.  sec. 

1 53  29 

» * 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  21,  1S42 — altitude  of  Polaris. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

25 

50 

9 

10 

56 

82 

27 

45 

9 

12 

51 

82 

29 

20 

9 

15 

43 

82 

31 

40 

9 

18 

07 

82 

34 

00 

9 

20 

53 

82 

35 

15 

9 

22 

30 

82 

37 

45 

9 

24 

15 

82 

37 

40 

9 

25 

47 

82 

40 

00 

9 

28 

13 

82 

41 

00 

9 

30 

09 

Thermometer  51°. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 
41  15  11 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 27  51 

Deg. 

41 

min.  sec. 
05  38 

653 


[ 174  ] 

NOON  HALT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  A SMALL  CREEK  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF 

THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude.  September  23,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

De^.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

96  37  05 

48  33  04 

1 

41  20  20 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec- 
Thermometer  80°. 

» 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  NEAR  THE 

LOUP  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  23,  1842 — altitude  of  a Jlquilde  in 

the  meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a 

Aquilae. 

True  altitude. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

114 

12 

10 

57  04  43 

41  22  52 

i 


Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 


654 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  AT  THE 
MOUTH  OF  THE  LOUP  FORK. 

Determination  of  time , September  26,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 


SECOND  SERIES. 


Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer,  j 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

40 

12 

50 

I 9 

38 

24.6  1 

42 

01 

45 

9 

43 

39.7 

40 

27 

25 

! 9 

39 

08.0 

| 42 

12 

50 

9 

44 

10.0 

40 

38 

35 

l 9 

39 

40.2  ] 

| 42 

26 

10 

9 

44 

49.0 

40 

52 

25 

9 

40 

19.5  | 

42 

36 

55 

9 

45 

20.0 

41 

04 

00 

1 9 

40 

52.8 

.42 

49 

25 

9 

45 

56.0 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 
Thermometer  73°. 
Observation  indifferent. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

7 50  14 

1 52  00 

\ 


t 


655 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  AT  THE 
MOUTH  OF  THE  LOUP  FORK. 

Determination  of  latitude , September  26,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun 

near  the  meridian. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

93  58  45 

1 29  17 

94  00  30 

1 30  13 

94  01  45 

1 30  43 

94  02  15 

1 31  17 

94  04  00 

| 1 32  04 

Interrupted. 

Interrupted. 

94  08  30 

1 35  58 

94  10  00 

1 37  19 

94  11  55 

1 39  34 

94  12  35 

1 40  49 

Interrupted. 

Interrupted. 

94  09  25 

1 48  38 

94  06  25 

1 51  39 

94  05  50 

1 52  22 

Thermometer  81°. 


Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Advance. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec . 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min . sec. 

47  20  48 

1 51  56 

41  22  03 

[ 174  ] t>56 

NOON  HALT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude.  September  2S,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun  in 

the  meridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Dee. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

92 

42 

30 

1 

29 

09 

92 

45 

45 

1 

31 

33 

92 

47 

50 

1 

33 

42 

92 

49 

00 

1 

35 

35 

92 

49 

20 

1 

36 

55 

92 

50 

10 

1 

38 

50 

92 

49 

25 

1 

41 

29 

92 

48 

45 

1 

42 

32 

92 

48 

15 

1 

43 

33 

92 

47 

20 

1 

45 

10 

92 

46 

10 

1 

46 

18 

92 

44 

35 

1 

47 

51 

92 

41 

20 

I 

49 

51 

Thermometer  76°. 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  32  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude, 

657 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  AT  THE 
MOUTH  OF  ELK  HORN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  September  28,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 


OBSERVATIONS. 

Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

A. 

min. 

sec. 

84 

05 

25 

10 

41 

47 

84 

07 

30 

10 

44 

02 

* 

84 

09 

20 

10 

46 

57 

84 

10 

40 

10 

48 

45 

84 

09 

50 

10 

50 

24 

84 

11 

15 

10 

52 

29 

84 

12 

55 

10 

54 

23 

84 

16 

20 

10 

57 

08 

84 

15 

55 

10 

58 

53 

84 

15 

55 

11 

00 

37 

Thermometer  54°. 

Index  error  = — 40  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

A.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

42  04  23 

9 02  17 

41  09  34 

G5S 


E 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER,  AT  THE 
MOUTH  OF  ELK  HORN  RIVER. 

Determination  of  time , September  28,  1842  — altitude  of  a Lyrae. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  a Lyrae. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

99 

10 

20 

11 

24 

36.0 

98 

32 

10 

11 

26 

23.7 

97 

48 

?0 

11 

28 

23.0 

96 

52 

40 

11 

30 

58.0 

96 

09 

30 

11 

32 

56.0 

Thermometer  54°. 

Index  error  = — 40  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

k.  min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

9 39  25 

1 

49  15 

659 


[ *74  3 

\ 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , September  29,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris*  § 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometerf 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

83  40  30 

10  21  37 

83  42  35 

10  24  20 

83  44  10 

10  26  37 

83  45  05 

10  28  46 

83  46  00 

10  30  51 

83  48  20 

10  33  19 

83  50  40 

10  . 35  24 

83  52  45 

10  39  41 

83  53  50 

10  41  22 

83  54  40 

10  43  18 

*"  * V ' 

Thermometer  40°. 

Indev  error  = — 1 min.  38  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 

* 

True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  52  05 

8 43  56 

41  02  15 

[ 174  ] G60 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  BELLEVUE,  OV  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI 
RIVER,  AT  THE  TRADING  POST  OF  THE  AMERICAN  FUR  COMPANY. 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  2 , 1S42 — altitude  of  the  nun. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SCRIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  .lower  limb. 

sun’s 

1 

lower  limb. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min 

sec. 

48 

29 

45 

10 

07 

07.5  ! 

49 

42 

25 

10 

10 

49.8 

48 

48 

20 

10 

08 

04.0  ; 

49 

52 

00 

10 

11 

18.6 

49 

09 

10 

10 

09 

06.6  j 

50 

05 

00 

10 

12 

00.4 

49 

.20 

50 

10 

09 

42.8  1 

50 

15 

05 

10 

12 

30.4 

49 

30 

10 

10 

1 

10 

10.5 

50 

24 

55 

10 

13 

00.0 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  38  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  mm.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

8 21  41.5 

1 48  41.6 

95  47  46 

Determination  of  latitude , October  2,  1842- — altitude  of  the  sun  in  the 

meridian . 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

89 

58 

10 

1 

32 

56 

89 

58 

55 

l 

33 

35 

89 

59 

20 

1 

34 

20 

90 

00 

05 

1 

36 

07 

89 

59 

55 

1 

36 

55 

89 

59 

45 

1 

38 

31 

89 

59 

40 

1 

39 

32 

89 

59 

10 

1 

40 

27 

89 

59 

10 

1 

41 

17 

89 

58 

25 

1 

42 

26 

89 

57 

30 

1 

43 

21 

89 

55 

20 

1 

45 

52 

Time  of  chronometer. 


661 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  AT  BELLEVUE,  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI 
RIVER,  AT  THE  TRADING  POST  OF  THE  AMERICAN  FUR  COMPANY. 


Determination  of  longitude,  October  3,  1S42 — altitude  of  the  sun. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

i 

| 

SECOND  SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

| 1 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 
sun’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Leg. 

min. 

sec 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Peg. 

mill. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec . 

39 

49 

00 

5 

33 

13.0 

38 

31 

55 

5 

36 

53  0 

39 

29 

40 

5 

34 

12  3 ! 

38 

23 

20 

5 

37 

25.8 

39 

07 

20 

5 

35 

1(5.2 

33 

10 

00 

5 

38 

03.8 

38 

56 

30 

5 

35 

48.3 

37 

57 

35 

5 

38 

40.0 

38 

45 

50 

5 

36 

19.0  j 

37 

46 

10 

5 

39 

13.7 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  38  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance 

Longitude. 

A.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

3 46  52 

3 49  38.5 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  4,  IS  12 — altitude  of  the  sun 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

9 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

sun’s  lower  limb. 

sun’s  lower 

limb. 

jp 

*5 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min . 

sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

h . 

min. 

sec. 

48 

ri 

10 

10 

10 

20.0 

49  16 

50 

10 

13 

42.0 

48 

28 

30 

10 

11 

14.0 

49  23 

45 

10 

14 

04.4 

48 

42 

50 

10 

11 

57.3 

49  30 

30 

10 

14 

22.6 

49 

00 

10 

10 

32 

51.0 

49  37 

00 

10 

14 

46.0 

49 

09 

05 

10 

13 

19.0 

49  45 

05 

10 

15 

11.0 

Index  error  = — - 1 min.  35  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

h.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

D g.  min.  sec. 

8 23  17.6 

1 49  53.2 

95  47  46 

662 


[ 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  AT  BELLEVUE,  ON  THE  RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI 
RIVER,  AT  THE  TRADING  POST  OF  THE  AMERICAN  FUR  COMPANY. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  4,  1842 — sun’s  altitude  in  the  me- 
ridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Doable  altitude  of  the  sun 

’s  lower  limb. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

De%. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

88 

20 

10 

1 

28 

21 

88 

25 

30 

1 

33 

23 

88 

25 

50 

1 

34 

14 

88 

26 

45 

1 

35 

27 

S8 

26 

45 

1 

38 

10 

88 

27 

25 

1 

40 

08 

88 

26 

40 

1 

41 

47 

88 

26 

00 

1 

42 

23 

88 

25 

45 

1 ' 

43 

06 

88 

24 

25 

1 

44 

59 

88 

22 

40 

1 

46 

28 

88 

21 

40 

1 

47 

21 

88 

19 

30 

1 

48 

44 

RESULT  OP  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

• 

663 


C 174  ] 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  MISSOURI  RIVER,  OPPOSITE  TO  THE 
RIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  PLATTE  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  4,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min . 

sec. 

h. 

•min. 

sec. 

84 

11 

10 

10 

51 

20 

84 

11 

50 

10 

53 

26 

84 

14 

50 

10 

56 

31 

84 

16 

30 

10 

59 

47 

84 

18 

25 

11 

03 

54 

84 

20 

00 

11 

05 

48 

84 

20 

25 

' 11 

07 

39 

84 

2-1 

30 

11 

10 

54 

84 

23 

40 

11 

13 

18 

84 

24 

50 

11 

15 

15 

Time  of  chronometer. 


Thermometer  63°. 

Index  error  — — 1 min.  2 1 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

! 

M|an  time. 

A 

Latitude. 

Peg.  min. 

sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min . 

sec . 

42  07 

22 

9 13  17 

41 

02 

12 

[ 174  ] 664 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  EIGHT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI  RIVER 
Determination  of  latitude,  October  5,  IS42 — altitude  of  Polaris < 


OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec.  * 

82 

28 

00 

9 

37 

2S 

82 

30 

00 

9 

40 

55 

82 

32 

40 

9 

43 

55 

82 

35 

10 

9 

47 

51 

82 

37 

40 

9 

51 

13 

Thermometer  69°. 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  21  sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

h. 

min.  sec. 

Deg.  min. 

sec. 

41 

14  37 

7 

53  30 

40  34 

08 

t 


NOON  HALT  AT  BERTHOLET’S  ISLAND,  MISSOURI  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude,  October  6,  1S42—  altitude  of  the  sun  in  tht- 


meridian . 

Double  altitude  of  the  sun’s 

True  central  altitude. 

Latitude. 

lower  limb. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  mm.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

88  16  55 

44  22  55 

40  27  08 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  35  sec. 


/ 


685 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI  RIVER,  MOUTH  OF 
THE  NISHNABATONA  RIVER. 


Determination  of  time , October  6,  1842 — altitude  of  a Aquilx. 


OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST  SERIES. 

SECOND 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude 

of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double 

: altitude 

of  a 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Aquilae. 

Aquilae. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h.] 

min. 

sec. 

90 

07 

10 

10 

55 

04.3 

87 

29 

55 

i 11 

03 

24.4 

89 

37 

20 

10 

56 

40.0 

87 

00 

30 

! n 

04 

52.0 

89 

09 

15 

10 

58 

06.0 

86 

30 

25 

1 '1 

06 

26.0 

88 

42 

11 

10 

59 

37.0 

86 

07 

00 

i u 

07 

41.0 

88 

08 

30 

11 

01 

20.0 

I 85 

1 

33 

40 

1 11 

09 

18.6 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 


h.  min.  sec.  k. 

9 1 1 50  1 


Advance. 


min. 

50 


Longitude. 


sec. 

24 


666 


C 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI,  QUARTER  OF  A MILE 
BELOW  THE  MOUTH  OF  NISHNABATONA  RIVER. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  6,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

82 

22 

00 

82 

23 

20 

82 

24 

25 

82 

26 

25 

82 

27 

35 

82 

27 

40 

82 

29 

55 

82 

31 

35 

82 

32 

30 

82 

33 

40 

Time  of  chronometer. 


h. 

min. 

sec. 

10 

12 

50 

10 

15 

06 

10 

17 

04 

10 

18 

55 

10 

20 

32 

10 

22 

02 

10 

24 

09 

10 

27 

13 

10 

29 

42 

10 

31 

59 

Thermometer  47°. 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  35  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

41  12  03 

8 31  33 

40  16  40 

667 


[ 174  ] 

ENCAMPMENT  ON  THE  LEFT  BANK  OF  THE  MISSOURI  RIVER. 
Determination  of  latitude , October  S,  1842 — altitude  of  Polaris . 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  Polaris. 


Time  of  chronometer. 


Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

80 

46 

30 

9 

46 

24 

80 

49 

00 

9 

49 

09 

80 

50 

45 

9 

51 

17 

80 

51 

25 

9 

53 

31 

80 

52 

50 

9 

55 

31 

80 

56 

35 

9 

58 

30 

80 

57 

30 

* 10 

00 

36 

80 

57 

40 

10 

02 

34 

81 

00 

25 

10 

05 

32 

81 

03 

10 

10 

09 

31 

Thermometer  36°. 

Index  error  = — 1 min.  21  sec. 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Mean  time. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

40  25  29 

8 07  10 

39  36  02 

668 


[ 174  ] 

HALT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  KANZAS  RIVER,  700  FEET  ABOVE  THE 
LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  longitude,  October  10,  1842 — altitude  of  the  sun. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


FIRST 

SERIES. 

SKCOXD 

SERIES. 

Double  altitude 

of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Double  altitude  of  the 

Time  of  chronometer. 

lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

lower  limb  of  the 

sun. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

Deg. 

min. 

sec. 

h. 

min. 

sec. 

39 

08 

15 

9 

44 

35.0 

40 

21 

35 

9 

48 

06.0 

39 

27 

50 

9 

45 

31.0 

40 

31 

50 

9 

48 

30.0 

39 

44 

30 

9 

46 

17.5 

40 

41 

00 

9 

49 

02.3 

39 

57 

50 

9 

46 

59.0 

40 

51 

10 

9 

49 

31.0 

40 

09 

28 

9 

47 

31.0 

41 

00 

10 

9 

49 

59.5 

Index  error  :=  — 1 min.  7 sec. 


RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


Mean  time. 

Advance. 

Longitude. 

• h.  min.  tec. 

i 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg . min. 

sec. 

7 59  09 

1 48  23 

94  32 

54 

669 


C W4  J 


HALT  AT  THE  MOUTH  OF  THE  KANZAS  RIVER,  700  FEET  ABOVE  THE 
LEVEL  OF  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

Determination  of  latitude , October  107  1842 — sun’s  altitude  in  the  me - 

ridian. 

OBSERVATIONS. 


Double  altitude  of  the  lower  limb  of  the  sun. 

Time  of  chronometer. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

87  41  10 

1 21  01 

87  44  15 

1 22  37 

87  46  50 

1 24  36 

87  49  50 

1 26  07 

87  51  20 

1 27  45 

87  55  15 

1 32  36 

87  55  30 

1 34  05 

87  54  30 

1 38  30 

87  53  10 

1 41  Of 

87  51  15 

1 43  11 

87  49  05 

t 44  56 

87  46  15 

1 46  40 

87  43  20 

1 48  35 

87  38  30 

1 50  51 

RESULT  OF  CALCULATION. 


True  altitude. 

Time  of  transit  by  chronometer. 

Latitude. 

Deg.  min.  sec. 

h.  min.  sec. 

Deg. 

min.  sec. 

44  12  24 

1 35  42 

39 

06  03 

The  foregoing  observations  are  given  in  civil  time. 


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[ 174  ] 


REMARKS. 


The  elevations  which  have  been  given  in  the  coarse  of  the  preceding 
report  are  founded  upon  the  annexed  barometrical  observations,  and,  it  is 
scarcely  mossary  tosay,are  offered  only  as  the  best  indications  we  have. 
The  barometers  were  compared  with  those  of  Dr.  G.  Engelman,  of  St. 
Louis,  Missouri,  whose  observations  are  given  for  a corresponding  period. 
The  following  is  the  result  of  forty  comparative  observations  of  three  ba- 
rometers instituted  by  him  from  May  22d  to  May  29th,  1S42,  at  St.  Louis. 
Range  of  barometers  during  that  period  0".400,  temperature  60°  to  75°. 
Barometer  E,  as  observed  for  and  noted  in  the  journal  of  the  academy  : 

= Fremont’s  Troughton  (T.)  — 0'M36  = Fremont’s  Carey  (C.)  — 0".178. 

Range  in  the  differences  : 

Mean  E = Fremont’s  Troughton  (T.)  — 0/M36  = Fremont’s  Carey  (C.)  — 

Minimum  = do  do  — 0".  116  = do  do  O'M  67. 

Maximum  = do  do  — 0".  150=  do  do  0".190. 

Range  = do  do  0".034  = do  do  0".023. 

In  the  annexed  observations,  the  barometers,  Troughton  and  Carey,  are 
designated  respectively  by  the  letters  T.  and  C.  In  calculation,  the  obser- 
vations at  the  upper  stations  were  referred  to  the  single  ’corresponding 
observation  for  the  relative  period  of  time  at  the  lower  station.  It  would, 
perhaps,  have  been  better  to  refer  to  the  mean  of  the  observations  for  the 
month  at  the  lower  station.  In  calculation,  the  tables  used  were  those  of 
Bessel  and  of  Oltmauns,  as  given  in  Humboldt. 


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